The Magus Hunted
by Goblin Cat KC
Summary: One year later, Magus' actions force Frog to leave Guardia and travel with him to the present, where they uncover a plot that may alter the world. Now Magus explores the future and discovers the reason for the empty forest. Pt 7 finally up.
1. Battle at Guardia

****

The Magus Hunted by KC

Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger and all characters therein belongs to Squaresoft and probably a lot of other people I don't know. But not me. At all. Not one bit.

Warnings: Violence. And I mean violence, heads flying and blood running in rivers. Good stuff.

----------------------------------------------

Two by two they disappeared into the gate, and Magus kept his gaze on the ground as if he weren't watching. Each to their own time...but what time did he need to return to? Back to the middle ages where he had grown up, and back to the hatred both humans and mystics would feel for him? The future, and nothing he knew? Bleak 12000 B.C. and the end of the ice age? He might as well stay in 1000 A.D. for all the other times had to offer.

Before him, Frog followed his king through the gate. Magus frowned behind his glove. No parting words in that peculiar dialect, no threat of the Masamune? Not even a glance in his direction. No more oaths to avenge Cyrus and regain his shape. Perhaps Frog no longer desired revenge.

Magus snorted. As if Frog could defeat him. He would never know the sweet taste of revenge as Magus had, the annihilation of the one who'd taken his life, his dreams, his family...He replayed Lavos' last scream in his mind. Even such a powerful creature still feared death.

And now Lavos was dead.

So now what time to set off for? What now, with his enemy dead? The thought of ruling the mystics flickered briefly through his mind, but even if they'd forgotten his betrayal, why would he want to rule monsters and annoying imps? Wars had only ever been Ozzie's concern.

And now Ozzie was dead.

He lifted his head slightly. So many people he'd known were dead or gone. The mystic generals, the gurus, everyone of Zeal, his family, his sister...

Still undecided, he flew into the gate.

"So...you're going to look for Schala?" Marle asked.

He brought his cape up to his face. Search for his sister? Could she even be alive? He supposed it possible, although only his mother had reappeared with the Black Omen. She could've drowned, been drawn into the Mammon Machine, been killed by Queen Zeal, fallen through a time gate...vanished like he had...?

Search for one the person who'd never despised him, shunned him for showing little sign of magick, or turned away when he spoke of the black wind? And the black wind had not howled as she cast them away with...his gaze fell on Marle's pendant. That was the key. For the queens to pass along the pendant, Schala must be alive somewhere, somewhen.

Yes, he would search for his sister and find her. He would recreate his family. But if he was going to gather his family back together, he first had to go to 12000 B.C. Alfador was waiting.

----------------------------------------------

The Guardia castle doors, heavy oak fifteen feet tall, creaked as the soldiers pulled them open. Outside the storm left the night pitch black, lit only by brilliant flashes of lightning. Frog squeezed through as soon as he could fit through the opening, rain dripping down his soaked clothes, and hopped down the hall towards the side room. The king and as many soldiers would fit hovered by the right staircase, swords drawn.

"My liege," Frog said. The soldiers stepped aside to let him through and he bowed his head once.

"Frog, praise God," the king said. "We have need of your strength. An intruder has made his way into our archives and we cannot draw near for his strong magicks."

"My sword is ever thine." Frog drew the Masamune and began down the stairs. He turned back a moment. "My liege, you should remaineth here 'till my return. I know not what may occur."

Without windows and sunlight, only torches along the wall lit his way. At the foot of the stairs he sidled against the wall and looked around the corner. A dark hallway stretched back, gold circles of fire lighting the stone walls, but he saw no intruder. Moving slowly so he would make no sound, he walked sideways down the hall, his back always against a wall. 

As he neared the royal treasury and the archival vault with it, he heard paper rustling and the scratch of a quill. The rainbow shell reflected the torchlight inside the final room, making the room glow. With a deep breath, he tightened his grip on the Masamune and stepped into the archive.

A cloaked figure sat a desk in the brightest corner, bent over several books with rotting leather covers and loose pages that slipped to the floor every few seconds. When Frog took another step, the figure paused and looked over his shoulder, and although Frog couldn't see his eyes, he was certain the intruder could see him. He raised the Masamune higher, ready to charge.

"Who art thou?" he said. "Explain thyself!"

"The Masamune?" A low chuckle from the intruder. "Hell of a bookmark, Frog."

Frog's bulbous eyes widened, then narrowed as he scowled. "Magus. What art thou doing here? Thou hast no business with Guardia."

"Stupid amphibian," Magus said. He looked back to the books and flipped through a few more pages. "All I'm doing is looking through the archives. Is this suddenly a hanging offense?"

"Thou hast threatened my king and the safety of the kingdom--"

Magus laughed again. "Well, they do say the pen is mightier than the sword. Shall I face your sword with my quill?"

"Thou art no longer mine ally," Frog said. "If thou dost not stand down--"  
"'Stand down'? When I haven't even drawn my scythe?" Magus shook his head and picked up the sheets of paper on which he'd been scribbling. "Have you turned into such a coward?"

"Coward?" Frog's voice tightened and his knuckles turned white on the Masamune's hilt. "Nay, I know thy abilities. Thou art a threat at all times."

"I'm not sure if I should feel insulted or flattered." Magus stood and turned towards Frog, sweeping his cloak back over his shoulder. "Relax. I'm not here for anyone's life. I wasn't even looking for you."

"Then the throne--"

"What would I want with Guardia? Humans aren't even worth the effort."

Frog snorted one. "Thou forget thou art human."

Magus briefly looked at his gloved hands. "No. No, I'm not."

"Then thou art truly an evil mystic?" 

"No..." Magus whispered. "I don't think that's true either."

For a moment Frog stared at his rival, then growled and sheathed the Masamune. "Thou still hast not told me of thy business here."

"Research. Nothing more sinister than that." He rolled his notes tight and tucked them into his belt. "Take a look if you want. I don't care."

While the wizard gathered a few stray pages from the floor, Frog edged close to the table, peering at the nearest open book but never turning his back to Magus.

"May thirteenth," he read aloud, "the twenty-third year of Our Lord. I received my mother's amulet today. With her death, it passes to me, to wait for my death when I shall give it to my own daughter. It's said to have safeguarded every queen in Guardia, and the advisors all say it must be magick and thus contains some great power. 

"I must confess, though, that I feel no power within. Indeed, it feels empty, as if there should be some force within. I feel as if I hold a body without its soul, and I understand now why mother never wore such a beautiful gem. I shall keep it locked safely in the treasury until my own death draws near, and then I think I may be happy to be rid of it. No doubt Cassio would be appalled to know what melancholy thoughts run through my head, but--" Frog broke off and looked to the end of the entry. "Princess Velesia? Thou art reading diaries?"

"Her's isn't the oldest," Magus said with a nod. "There are some records going back to three thousand b.c., and a few whose edges crumbled as I breathed on them."

"No surprise," Frog said, "thy breath is likely poison."

Magus' eyes flashed red for a moment, and he drew his cloak fully around himself, pulling the hood over his head. "And yours reeks of flies, pond hopper. Now, since you seem so anxious for me to leave, why don't you tell your king to get out of my way before I have to kill any of his men."

"Where art thou going?" Frog asked. "Surely thou can simply magick thy way out."

"That's only good for short distances, you little pest. Now unless you want to see your knights roasted in their armor..." He held his hand up and summoned a ball of fire.

"Nay, wizard, put thy spells away." Frog turned towards the hallway. "Fighting thee is more trouble than thou art worth. I shall see thee safely out of the castle."

Never turning their backs to each other, they walked side by side past the torches to the stairs. Frog glanced at Magus, and from his lower vantage point could see the wizard's pale skin and glowing eyes. Magus had never looked happy, flipping back and forth between disgust or anger, but now his face bore no expression.

"Thou seemst tired," he said. "Has this past year been so trying for thee?"

"I'm surprised you care," Magus said.

"Thou art a strong fighter. That something could wear even thee down is a daunting thought."

"A year of searching would wear anyone down."

Frog nearly stopped. He'd been searching all this time? Knowing his rival as he did, no doubt he'd never paused longer than needed to sleep. All for someone he didn't even know if she was still alive or long since dead. "I am sure thou shalt find her," he said softly.

Magus pulled his cloak tighter around himself. "I don't need your assurances."

"The amulet Princess Velesia wrote of...that was Princess Nadia's pendant?"

"Schala's pendant," he said, correcting him. "It belongs to Schala." As they neared the stairs, he pulled his scythe from his cloak.

"Magus--"

"You know I won't attack," he said. "I don't know that about your guards."

At the top of the stairs, the soldiers drew their swords again and faced Magus, who paused and stared over each of them. He made no move, but every soldier took a step back and glanced at his comrades. In his dark cloak with a scythe in his pale hands, Magus stood before them as death, ready to swing his blade at the smallest movement.

As the soldiers tightened their grips and the king steeled himself, Frog hopped in front of the wizard and held his hands up to his men. "Fear not," he said. "My liege, this man is mine former ally in the battle against Lavos."

A collective gasp went up, but the king raised one hand to shush them. "Is this true? A quiet ally then, and quite imposing. Are you sure he is still your ally?"

Frog bit back a laugh. "Aye, he even helped in my quest to destroy Ozzie and his top generals."

The king smiled and sheathed his blade, and his soldiers did likewise. "He is a powerful enemy of the mystics? Then he is Guardia's ally as well, and welcome in our archives, provided he does not fright us so in the future. Tell me, though, stranger, can you speak?"

About to answer for him, Frog almost squeaked when he heard Magus' voice reverberating against the stone walls. The wizard never raised his voice or moved more than a few inches, but the air crackled as if the shadows around him burned.

"My voice often unnerves those around me," Magus said, and he let a smile slip when the room fell silent. "I'd hoped no one would notice my presence. My search is important, but personal."

About to ask something else, the king was interrupted by the sound of women calling out in the throne room. The voices came closer, and around the corner came a purple cat, followed by the young queen and her attendants. 

When she saw the soldiers surrounding a cloaked stranger she stopped short, halting her ladies beside her. 

Magus put his arm out and everyone startled back, even Frog, but Alfador ran up and jumped onto his hand. Magus brought him close and rubbed behind his ears. His cat meowed and disappeared into his cloak.

"Alfador?" He raised his head slightly and listened.

Around the corner, the broad oak doors slammed open and leaves and dirt and rain blew in. Strong winds whipped through the halls and nearly toppled the queen. While her attendants clucked around her, another voice waved around Magus like smoke and drowned out everyone else. He closed his eyes and listened.

"The black wind..."

Frog looked up. "What sayest thou?"

Firelight gleamed off the edge of his scythe as Magus readjusted his grip. "Something's wrong," he said. "Something's coming."

In a moment, the Masamune shone next to the scythe. The soldiers, seeing the two draw their weapons, unsheathed their own swords. While their guards sealed the doors again, they waited in silence, muscles tense, listening.

"My liege," Frog said softly, "methinks you had better move the queen to the archives."

The king nodded. "Agreed, it is the safest place." 

Not needing a command, the queen obeyed and disappeared down the stairs with several soldiers.

Frog waved one man close. "Rouse the troops. Bid you them that they prepare as if for war." A quick nod and his soldier ran out of sight. They heard his boots down the hall and halfway down the stairs to the barracks. As the echoes of his steps faded, another sound took its place. At first only Magus heard it, like a weak heartbeat far in the distance. It came louder so that the soldiers heard it, then louder still, drowning out the rain, as if a thousand creatures approached with one mind.

"Your men won't be ready in time," Magus said and walked past the soldiers who parted for him, towards the doors. 

Scowling, Frog hopped after him. "What is it?"

"It's only been a year since we destroyed Ozzie and his generals. Did you think the mystic army would simply collapse?"

"I'd hoped so."

The beat came strong enough to shake the doors and pound within their chests.

"You hoped wrong."

On the other side of the door, the sound stopped. The doors creaked as they bent inwards, pushed in from the outside. They bent in so far Frog wondered that they didn't break, and in the space between them, he saw eyes glittering in the dark.

"Brace yourself," Magus said. "Here they come."

Cracking like gunshots, the doors exploded in, splinters and chunks of wood sliding past them. Magus raised one hand and pointed at the opening that swarmed with imps and ogans and freelancers, and dark energy gathered at his fingertips. A black fog spilled into the air, then rushed towards the mystics. Those nearest disintegrated as the poison mist enveloped them, but the ones further back collapsed and writhed as their skin blistered and melted. As they screamed, the mystic army trampled over them, stomping them into the mud.

Another dark mist tore their ranks, but more pushed from the back so that they slipped in through the sides and windows. Instead of rushing the halls, most charged the two before them, claws and talons and clubs cleaving the air.

A wave of water crested over Frog and smashed handfuls of mystics into the castle walls. "Warlock!" he yelled over the water's roar. "We must take the battle elsewhere, lest the castle crumble around us."

"Agreed." He flipped his cloak over one shoulder and raised his hands. "Hold them back long enough."

Frog nodded and swept more mystics back through the door, cutting stragglers down with his sword while he readied another spell.

A few seconds later a dark matter spell appeared outside over the army, two pyramids spinning over one another until one clashed into the other and both exploded, clearing the rain for a moment. A patch of ground cleared before the entrance, and Frog stepped beneath the stone archway into the rain, his shadow cast onto the ground by the torches around him.

Shrieks filled the air as the mystics drew closer, pushing towards the frog back dropped in gold light like a saint. Many of them still climbed through the windows, but he only stared at the bulk of the army in front of him. They heard soldiers busy with their comrades and realized a massive frontal assault was their only hope.

Another dark matter exploded above them, blasting those who didn't instantly vanish. Magus appeared behind Frog, and both of them stepped out, followed by soldiers who'd only had time to don leather armor and unstrapped helmets. A few sergeants yelled their orders over the wind to their men, and their men strained to hear them. They leaned into the wind to keep on their feet. None of them carried sheaths but held their swords high, ready to slash at the first enemy within their reach. In the dark storm, the mystics could only see the torchlight reflected on their blades.

As the air thundered together in the vacuum left by the spell, the mystics drew back and whispered amongst each other. Muttering in their own language, they began climbing over themselves, piling up as tall as the forest.

"What on earth..." Frog said.

"Stop them!" Dark matter spells shot from Magus' hands into the pile of bodies, blasting dozens of mystics into the treetops. "Don't let them merge!"

Holding the Masamune high, Frog summoned the strength that had cleaved cliffs, the true strength of the blade. As it gleamed a brilliant blue, Frog swung the blade and cut a broad chunk from the forming creature. The falling creatures, their limbs melted together, screamed until they hit the ground. The living tried to move while still connected to the dead, their arms and legs fused with wings and bloodied heads. Blood circulated through them and pooled in the corpses, and they called out to anyone nearby, "kill me, kill me."

At the sight, some soldiers looked away, a few emptied their stomachs, and some would've killed those still moving but that Magus held one arm out to stop them.

"Let them pass," Frog said, and the wind nearly swallowed his voice. "'Tis a matter of mercy, if thou remembrest such a thing."

"Don't bother." Magus nodded at the creature, now as tall and thick as a tree. "We're too late."

A second later, the fully formed creature put one clawed foot down on the writhing mass on the ground, ending the screams. It opened its mouth, its fangs gleaming bright, and screeched loud enough to knock the soldiers into the mud. When it lunged at Magus, it moved as fast as the lightning overhead.

With no time to cast a spell, Magus swung his scythe to meet its outstretched claws. Blood sprayed over the ground and his cloak, but its momentum let the claw slide away again. He staggered backwards with the force of its swipe. It swung its unwounded claw towards him, and this time it met his blade and didn't stop. The blade cut down to its bone but it kept pushing, trying to reach his face. Magus braced his legs and pushed back, but its whole weight leaned down on him and his boots slipped in the slick grass. His staff creaked, about to splinter.

The Masamune cut into the creature's arm, nearly severing it, and the large mystic stumbled into the forest, already muttering a spell. Its eyes glowed green in the darkness. Magus regained his balance and rushed his own spell. Frog couldn't understand either of them, but he raised his sword and prepared to leap. The wizard's spells could just as easily strike everyone around him as his own target.

Before Magus finished, a dark mist rippled out of the forest towards Frog. Too fast to avoid, it raced across the ground and Frog steeled himself, already chanting a healing spell.

A pulsating green barrier wrapped around him like a sudden skin just as the mist rolled over him. The green light fizzled, blistering and cracking, and as the mist dissipated, the light faded and sloughed off into the rain puddles.

The lack of pain stunned Frog, and he stared at Magus with wide eyes. The sorcerer knelt now, breathing hard, and Frog wondered how many spells the wizard had been casting. Such strong magicks, as well...He huffed and stepped between Magus and the mystic.

"Catch thy breath," he said. "Hath thee any ethers?"

Magus nodded once, but his voice was drowned out in the mystic's roar. It lunged again, this time at Frog, who caught its claws with his sword and cleaved straight through its arm and into its shoulder, where the blade stuck firm. He yanked hard, but the Masamune wouldn't slip free.

Though one arm now hung in ruined, bloody mess, the mystic creature could wield its other arm and did, swinging it across the clearing and scattering the soldiers who came too close. 

Tossing an emptied ether bottle aside, Magus started his next spell. He leaped over the flailing arm as it passed by, but while in the air, he couldn't dodge the fire blast that scorched the area. Flames leaped up on his cloak and he threw it off. The rain plastered his hair to his back, and now the humans could see his eyes as they caught all the light nearby and reflected them, so that they glowed like his enemy's. He knelt as he landed, about to throw his spell when the arm came back again and knocked him flat.

Its claws spread over his body and pinned him down, the sharp edges slicing into his arms and side. He winced but didn't stop his chant, and a second later he managed to throw his dark matter spell into the creature's stomach.

Shrieking and stomping, it released him and clutched its body, feeling the energies boiling inside and unable to stop the spell. Its stomach burst in a great spray of thick black blood and bile. As its innards spilled out, it dropped to its knees and splattered into the mud, sinking down with its weight.

Magus sat up and winced. Rain streamed down his hair and washed the mud off his clothes, and the biting cold finally started to reach him. He glanced at his singed cloak and reached to pick it up.

Frog hopped beside him but before he could speak, several screams came from the castle, louder than the lightning. "The queen--"

Forgetting his cloak, Magus grabbed Frog's arm and pulled himself up. Shadows exploded around them, and Frog would've staggered back but Magus kept his grip and yanked him forward. A second later the shadows receded and they stood at the top of the stairs to the archives. Magus fell to one knee and released him. "Go," he said, breathing hard.

With a quick nod, Frog leaped down the stairs and landed on the bottom. The walls and torches flew by and he jumped high, slamming into the yellow back of some large mystic.

The impact knocked both of them across the room and into the rainbow shell. In his side vision Frog spotted the queen's white dress, but there was no time to see if she was all right. He pressed his attack, ramming the Masamune into the creature's back. It howled and reared back, sending him flying into the far wall. The masonry cracked around him as he landed.

With Frog off its back, the yellow mystic lurched toward the queen, blood flying as it stumbled. She screamed and pressed against a corner, but she couldn't run around it.

A wave of water flooded through the middle of the room, slamming the mystic into the wall besides Frog. This time his sword took off one of its arms. Blood splattered into one of the torches, dousing it.

Dozens of needles fired from the creature's back, and though he dodged most of them, Frog stumbled backwards with gaping wounds on his face and arms. "A yakra..." he said to himself.

"We will destroy you!" it screamed, heaving with every breath. "And that traitorous Magus will drown in his own blood!"

Frog staggered to his feet, his sword growing heavy in his hands, but it wasn't needed. The mystic scuttled backwards and forced itself into the largest crack between stones, its slimy bulk squeezing through and leaving a yellow mess on the wall.

"So that's how their ancestors knew..." Frog said. "'Tis the most disgusting thing." He sheathed the Masamune and rushed a healing spell, but it only closed up the worst wounds. He looked at his queen. "Your majesty, art thou all right?"

She nodded and hurried to his side. "Thanks to you. But you're hurt--"

"Do not worry so over them. These wounds shall heal with but a little rest."

"And some ether, no doubt," she said and smiled. "But your friend Janus? Where is he?"

Two soldiers ran down the stairs, each of them out of breath and their swords dripping blood. "General, is the queen safe?"

"She is," Frog said over his shoulder.

"You came just in time," she said. "A few seconds slower and I wouldn't be."

"'Twas Janus that brought me so quickly," he said, and he wondered why the sorcerer had done so. He turned towards the soldiers. "Is he still here? He was ne'er one for long goodbyes."

"I'm afraid your friend collapsed near the stairs," he said. "The nurses were already tending to him when we came down."

"Collapsed?" Frog made a hurried bow to his queen and took off down the hall, hoping up the stairs three at a time. At the top of the stairs he found two women kneeling next to Magus, who lay on his side on the floor. His eyes were closed and instead of his usual white color, he looked almost gray. The nurses noticed Frog's look and the older woman stood.

"Calm yourself," she said. "His injuries are minor."

"Minor? Then why hast he collapsed?"

"No doubt exhaustion," she said and frowned. "You saw how much magick he used. You more than anyone else should know how tiring that can be."

He forced himself to take a deep breath. "Forgive me. I am merely concerned."

"Don't be," she said and smiled again. "He only needs some rest. We'll see him to his own room and bed."

A shudder ran through Frog thinking of Guardia's enemy unconscious in their hands. He took a breath, about to ask where they might take him, but the Knight Captain came up to them, wiping blood from his golden gauntlets.

"General Frog," he said, "the king requests your immediate presence. He's in his chambers now."

Frog gave him an annoyed glare. "I must needs see to mine ally--"

"I'm sorry." The Knight Captain shook his head. "It cannot wait. You don't have much time." He looked down and watched the blood from his gauntlets puddle on the stone floor. "You'd better hurry."

"Go on," she said. "We'll take care of your friend."

He almost said 'he's not my friend,' but swallowed it. With a sense of dread pooling in his stomach, Frog went into the throne room and up the stairs to the king's chambers. Halfway there he noticed drops of blood trailing up the steps, right up to the king's door. The two soldiers posted there saluted and stepped aside, one of them opening the door for him. He went in and heard the door click shut behind himself.

Blood pooled under the king's bed, dripping from soaked through sheets, and the king lay panting for breath above them, so pale he seemed blue. The nurses and soldiers around him saw Frog and parted. The king beckoned him forward. Frog stepped close and bowed his head.

"My liege?"

"My general," the king whispered. "The queen...?"

"She is safe," Frog said. "You should not speak. Thy strength--"

"I am dying anyway," the king said. "Frog, you must protect the queen. Protect the kingdom."

"I swear upon mine life."

The doors opened and the queen appeared, the edges of her dress stained from the blood on the floor. She saw the king and pressed her hands to her mouth. With a muffled sob she hurried to his side. His bloody hands stained her gloves as she grabbed them.

"My lord," she whispered. "What...how did this happen?"  
"I must ask your forgiveness," he said. "That Yakra demon bested my men and I. I have failed you."

She shook her head. "There is nothing to forgive. You saved my life. You saved..." She wiped her eyes with the back of one hand and left a smear of blood on her cheek.

"My dear Leene," he said, coughing, "I'm sorry I have not given you an heir."

"Don't trouble yourself," she said. "Rest."

"I'll be doing that soon enough." He coughed again, flecking his lips red. "At least the mystics are finally defeated."

"Aye," Frog said. "Your kingdom is safe once again."

"Thank God," he said. "Thank God I leave you a peaceful kingdom at last. I can rest easy for that."

"My liege..." Frog flexed his fingers on his hilt.

"Frog..." the king whispered. "Please...I must speak with the queen..."

"I understand." Frog nodded and half-turned, then paused and looked back. "Goodbye, my liege."

The king smiled. "Goodbye, my friend."

The doors shut behind Frog, and he bowed his head a moment.

"General," one of the guards whispered. "The king...he will be all right, won't he?"

Frog looked at him and said nothing. He took a deep breath and went down the stairs, and as soon as he came into the throne room, he stared at the king's throne. He wondered if Leene would cover it, drape a sheet over the red velvet and gold ornament until she remarried. A knot twisted in his stomach as he thought of her marrying another, making some stranger king and bearing his child.

"General Frog."

He turned and found one of the nurses coming towards him. "Madam?"

"Your friend is in the guest chambers sleeping," she said. "I thought you'd like to know."

"Ah. Yes." He tightened his hand on the Masamune, then released it. "Thank you."

"Sir, are you all right?"

"Yes, of course. The guest chambers, you said?"

"Yes, sir." She wanted to ask something else, but he walked away before she could. 

In the main hall, the wet torches on the walls were being switched out for dry ones and the servants were mopping up the puddles. He passed them and headed down the stairs, to the other side of the barracks. A set of wet footprints led to the first door and Frog pushed gently. Unlocked and unsealed, it opened into a nearly dark room.

A single torch burned in the far corner of the room. Across from the torch, Magus lay on the bed, fast asleep. At first Frog wondered if the sorcerer was still breathing. Magus' chest barely rose and fell. So silent, and with his unnaturally pale skin, the sorcerer could have passed for dead. 

Frog closed the door quietly and sat down in a chair near the bed. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. No sound but the torch burning nearby, an occasional muffled bolt of lightning. He wondered if the king was dead yet. 

Still asleep, Magus shifted further onto his side. Only the faint rustling of the blanket caught Frog's attention, and Frog wondered how the sorcerer could be so quiet. Perhaps growing up amongst Ozzie and his ilk had forced him to stay silent most of his life. Or maybe being the queen's magickless child had made him withdraw from everyone.

"Except Schala," Frog whispered. The girl had been his only friend. He frowned. No, he'd had a cat not too long ago. He'd seen it himself, just before the fight, running into Magus' cloak.

"They wouldst not have set thee to bed in a cloak," Frog said to himself. He stood and looked around the room. There weren't many places to hide anything, and what he had mistaken for a shadow was now obviously a cloak hanging on a bedpost. 

Muddy, singed and dripping wet, the cloak sagged in Frog's hands as he grabbed and unfurled it. Chunks of mud splattered on the floor, and he shook it back and forth. No cat. For a moment he wondered if the fire had damaged whatever spells kept the cat safe inside, and he shook it harder.

"Stupid wizard," Frog muttered, "even his cloak be annoying..."

A low chuckle made him spin around. Magus had rose up on one arm, a tired smile on his face. "What has my cloak ever done to you?"

Frog looked down at the wet cloth in his hands, then back at Magus. "If thou dost not remember, thy cat remaineth trapped in this."

Without a word, Magus pulled the blanket back a few inches. Curled against his shoulder lay Alfador, fast asleep with the tip of his tail touching his nose. His purple fur ruffled in the cooled air, and Magus covered him again.

"But I saw the creature enter thy cloak," Frog said. 

"He hid in my shadow," Magus said. "Safer for him there."

"I see." Frog draped the cloak back over the bedpost. "At least it is well, then." He sat back down and sighed. The Masamune bumped softly against the chair leg, but the sound made the sorcerer wince. Magus sat up and bent one leg to lean his arms on. In the torchlight, Frog saw the cuts and burns in Magus' clothes and armor, and he wondered that the nurses had not even removed the outer layer before setting the sorcerer to sleep.

"I don't think you're here for a social call," Magus said, "and the battle's over. What're you doing here?"

"Glad to see thou hast retained thy charms." Frog stared at the stones in the floor, finding a pattern over and over until it disappeared under the bed. "The king is dying, perhaps already dead."

Magus frowned. "Dead? He was inside the whole time."

"Aye, but a yakra mystic entered and tried to kill the queen. Its needles...hath injured him beyond healing."

"Even yours?" Magus narrowed his eyes. He'd seen the knight bring their previous comrades back from the brink of death. For this king to be beyond his help...

"A-aye," Frog said. "Twas nothing I could do."

"And I'm sure you tried." Magus expected no answer and didn't get one. He paused, thinking back on the fight. "A yakra got inside?"

"...aye." 

"So much for your great army," Magus said. "Can't even defend their own king, let alone a kingdom."

"Hold thy tongue," Frog hissed. His hand went to his sword out of habit. "'Twas nothing they couldst do. Few are strong enough to fight mystics."

"That's exactly what I said."

For a moment, Frog stared at him. "Warlock, thou art belligerent even when thou art trying to be sincere." He sighed and let his hand drop. "I'd thought the war wouldst be over with thy defeat."

"You only beat me, not the mystics. And I wasn't even your real enemy." Magus laughed and looked at the torch. The flames reflected in his eyes.

"No. Thou wast not." Frog glanced over his shoulder to make sure the door was still closed. "I came partly to thank thee. T'was...good of thee...to bring me to mine queen so quickly. Hadst thou been any slower, I might have lost Leene."

A short laugh. "Don't get the wrong idea. I only saved her because her descendent will help bring about my revenge on Lavos."

Frog didn't answer. They sat still for awhile, the only sound Alfador's slight snoring.

"Thou knew what wouldst happen when thou tried to stop its merging," Frog said.

The sudden comment caught Magus off-guard, and he frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"That horror we saw when the half-merged mystics fell to the ground. More dead than alive..."

Magus shrugged. "A few would've torn themselves free and healed, if they'd had the backbone to do so."

"Some of them were sharing backbones. Thou knew they wouldst."

"Of course. I've seen failed merges before."

"And thou triedst to stop them even so." Frog stared at him. "Knowing they would suffer."

"Look, you sanctimonious little pond-hopper," Magus said, eyes narrowing, "we fought a weakened merge. Any stronger, and a dark matter spell shot directly into its stomach still might not have killed it."

"And given us another horror, a 'merge' with its insides on the ground, still breathing. Hast thou changed so little that another's pain means nothing to thee?"

Magus snorted and looked away, flipping one hand up dismissively. "You don't know anything about shadow magicks, or else you'd know how stupid that is."

"Magus--?"

A knock at the door interrupted them, and before they could answer, a nurse poked her head in. Tears streaked her face. Blood coated her hands as she wiped them on her dress.

"Please forgive me, sirs, but the queen is asking for the general."

"Well, if the queen asks..." Magus shook his head. "How do you stand being at someone else's beck and call?"

"'Tis called loyalty, fidelity," Frog said as he stood.

"Sounds like a dog on a leash."

"I am not surprised thou knowest nothing of it." He inclined his head towards the nurse. "She is in her chambers? Thank you, I shall go now."

Sniffling, the nurse disappeared down the hall. As Frog stood inside the doorway, though, Magus called him back.

"I always wanted to ask you," he said, "since you're the only one who speaks like an idiot."

Frog ground his teeth together. "Magus--"

"Why do you always call me 'thee' or 'thou' and everyone else 'you'? It can't be selective stupidity."

"Thou art infuriating...the term 'you' is reserved only for those I respect."

"And the 'thou'?"

"Persons I hold in contempt, or am familiar with." With that, Frog huffed and slammed the door behind himself.

Jerked out of sleep, Alfador raised his head and mewed. Magus rubbed his violet fur, making him fall asleep again, and the sorcerer leaned back against the headboard. "Contempt or familiarity." Magus tilted his head. There was a mystery in that, considering the way he spoke with the queen. If he didn't hold the queen in contempt, just how familiar were they? 

Something poked against his side, and he reached down to his belt. He grumbled when his hand found the notes he'd made earlier, soaked through and mud splattered, burned in some parts and torn in others. He spread them on the bed, looking for anything salvageable. There was nothing. They bunched up as he clenched them in his fists, and for a moment he sat still, holding the ruined notes so tight they started to cut his skin. He closed his eyes and his hands started to shake. Hours of work, gone...

A mew and soft head rubbing his wrist made him open his eyes and look down. Alfador mewed again and crawled into his lap, falling asleep there in a little bundle. Magus watched his fur rise and fall, and after a few breaths he let the strips of paper fall to the floor.

"You're right," he whispered. "I'm tired. And I can get it all again tomorrow, after I've rested."

The bed creaked as he shifted the pillows around so he could lean back on them. With a deep breath, he stared at the stones that made up the ceiling. He thought he was too tired to sleep, but after a few minutes, he was back in Zeal, sitting on the grass outside the sunkeep, the only place he could go to be alone. The sunlight sparkled on the white building, so unlike the dark ruin it would become, and Alfador pounced on bugs in the grass before him. In those days, there was no danger of falling off the edge of the world.

*~*

TBC...


	2. Blizzard at Sandorino

****

The Magus Hunted by KC

Part 2

Something wasn't right. Magus woke but kept his eyes closed, only opening them to slits. Beside him, Alfador lay still, every muscle tense. The torch had burned out but now a blue glow filled the room. Peering through his eyelashes, he spotted the slight blue tinge that was the signature of a short teleportation spell as it opened up at the far side of the room. One shadow appeared in front of it and stepped out, followed by another. He could make out the familiar outlines of their shapes and the sound of metal sliding on metal told him the first was Slash. The second had to be Flea.

That they were alive didn't surprise him. He clenched his hands into fists. They were too close to try a spell and his scythe was too far to grab. He shifted as if asleep and let Alfador creep into his shadow. Slow seconds crept by. Slash came closer, the shadow of sword falling across Magus. He forced himself to wait, to hear for Flea's steps as well. When he came around the same side of the bed that Slash did, Magus relaxed slightly. That would make it a little easier.

The waiting was the worst part, listening to their footsteps on the stone floor. He heard no one outside his room, but the wooden door was so heavy that he figured no one could hear through it. He'd have to face these two alone. Slash was right beside him now, his whole shadow covering Magus. There was a whoosh of air as he raised his sword and brought it down as hard as he could.

An empty mattress met the blade. Cut in half, the blankets fluttered down as Magus flickered into sight on the other side of the bed. Before Flea's wind spell could reach him, he teleported again to the far side of the room, landing behind both of them and grabbing his scythe. The small tornado smashed the bed into the wall, breaking it to pieces, but it gave Magus the split second distraction he needed to lunge forward and draw his scythe in a broad arc while he began his chant. His enemies backed away from the swinging blade and then dove for cover as his finished fire spell sent flames shooting across their clothes.

By now they heard footsteps and yells coming down the hall towards the room. Flea held up his hands and sent a blast of wind up against the door to hold it shut, and he glanced over his shoulder at Slash. "I'll hold them off. Finish him!"

Knowing that a constant attack was the only thing that could keep Magus from concentrating on another spell, Slash rushed the wizard and slammed his sword into the scythe. Sparks flew from the grinding metals as they pushed back and forth.

"I'll repay you," Slash grunted out, "revenge for your betrayal!"

"How many times do I have to kill you?" Magus turned hard to his left, letting Slash's blade slide off of the scythe. A second later, Magus had jerked his blade's tip deep into his former general's stomach. Slash dropped his sword and put both hands around the scythe, trying to yank it out. The wizard leaned close enough to whisper.

"Can you hear that? It's the sound of the reaper."

A tornado spell struck him to the floor, reminding him that he'd forgotten about Flea. As Slash staggered backwards, Flea grabbed the swordsman and ran to the back of the room the same time the door flew open and Frog leaped in, followed by several guards with swords drawn. He hopped over the shattered debris and raised his sword, about to cleave off Flea's head when there was a blue flash and the two Mystics vanished.

The guards gasped and pointed and stepped closer, poking their swordtips where the pair had disappeared. Sheathing his sword, Frog sighed and looked at Magus. The sorcerer had already let Alfador out and was drawing on his boots. 

"Art thou well?"

Magus didn't even look at him. "Well enough."

"Those two have more lives than thy cat." Frog left the soldiers to their poking and stood beside him. "Though that wound thou gave'st Sir Slush surely hath killed him."

"No. He's alive."

"How canst thou know that?" 

"No black wind." Magus picked his cape up from the floor and shook out the splinters and mud splatters. It was a lost cause, too singed and torn for repair, and he dropped it again. He could pick up another from the market before he left. Or rob the treasury when no one was looking. People in this world, he'd found, were rather lax about letting treasure boxes lay around with any guards or even locks. He glanced at Frog. "You came pretty damn quick. Extra guards around my room?"

"Extra guard hath been placed everywhere," Frog said. "And 'twas mere coincidence thou art placed so closely to the quarters."

A single, humorless laugh. "I'm sure." Last to go on were his gloves, and as his hands disappeared inside, he heard a single gasp from one of the soldiers. He glared at the whole group of them. "What?"

None of the guards would face him, but he knew they'd seen how his fingers ended in claws. He tossed his hair over his shoulder. Who cared what they thought? Without another glance in their direction, he walked out of the room with Alfador close to his heels.

Sunlight streaming in through the windows told him how long he'd slept in, and inwardly cursed. There was the matter of Slash and Flea to attend to before he could even consider resuming his search in the library, and already half the day was gone. Worse, most of the castle inhabitants seemed to awake and clustered near the hallway. His dark look and the scythe in his hand made them back away so he could walk by, but he still heard their whispers.

"--last night was so dark but now--"

"Did you see--"

"--so pale--"

"--blue hair--"

"--that scythe isn't normal--"

"--purple cat acts almost human--"

"--red eyes--"

He was glad when he reached the stairs. Being talked about was nothing, but being gawked at was annoying.

Behind the wizard, Frog left the maids to clean the damaged room and hopped after Magus. Without the man's glare to cow them, the servants and guards crowded back into the middle of the hall to stare. Frog had to push his way past a few of them, edging towards the stairs. 

"Some sorcerer," the cook said to no one in particular. "Did you see his eyes? He looks half-dead."

The Knight Captain glared at his brother. "That sorcerer destroyed most of the mystic army in less than half an hour and helped save the queen. There's a reason he looks half-dead."

"Mm." The cook shook his head. "I don't know. There's something awfully familiar about him."

"I'm sure I'd remember if I'd seen him before." He smacked his brother's head. "All that jerky and 'eye scream' is ruining your brain."

Frog hopped a little faster. Without his cloak and the cover of night, Magus ran a real risk of being identified and...he shook his head. And what? After their journey, could anyone besides himself truly stand against the wizard? If recognized, would the queen order him to destroy Magus? He finally caught up and slowed his gait to match. 

"A moment," he said. "Where art thou going? Thou needst more rest--"

"Where there's Slash and Flea," Magus said without looking at him, "there's bound to be Ozzie. I can't search the archives here until I kill them. Again."

"I shall accompany thee--"

"Like hell." Now he glared at him, but he didn't stop walking. "That's all I need, her majesty's royal lap dog yapping at my heels."

It took all Frog's patience not to let him simply walk away, no matter how much the other man aggravated him. "Thou must needs accept mine help. Thou'lt be sorely outnumbered otherwise--"

"Oh, can it!" Magus whirled and faced him, speaking in a hiss. "You think I can't see right through you? You're too much of a coward to face the queen--"

Frog growled and put his hand on his sword. "Thou shalt not finish thy sentence--"

"--because you know damn well you could've saved her king--"

"I warn thee, hold thy tongue!"

"--and you're so damn bored that you're actually happy for the fight now, even if it took his life."

The sword flew out of Frog's scabbard and into his hands, held poised to strike. "Damn thee, Magus!"

The instant it left his mouth, he froze. Magus' eyes slightly widened, and they both looked around to see most of the castle gathered around them, watching their fight. Jaws dropped, and several of them visibly paled, recognizing the wizard finally from half-descriptions and rumors of his appearance. For a moment, no one breathed. After the initial shock, the servants pressed back against the walls and hid behind the guards, who drew their swords and stared at the Zealan prince. Sensing trouble, Alfador walked into the shadow at Magus' feet and disappeared, which in itself caused more gasps and whispers.

When he saw that all of their sword hands trembled and that none were advancing, Magus looked down at Frog. The knight could see the thought in his head, knew exactly was coming, but could do nothing to stop it. Honor dictated no less, but moreover he couldn't make his mouth work to stop him. The familiar smirk on Magus' face took a vicious twist.

"Oh...we're on a first name basis now, Glen?" and he pronounced the name loud enough for everyone to hear.

His name echoed down the halls until their whispers swallowed it up. Frog winced. What he wouldn't give for one of Ozzie's trap doors to open up and swallow him up too. Now everyone would know that Glen was the Queen's faithful Frog whom everyone ridiculed, even the Knights of the Square Table, at least when he wasn't around. He swallowed reflexively. He was no coward but...but regardless, he would not face them with this now. "Thou hast sealed it. I am accompanying thee."

Magus glared at him, but there was no changing the look in Frog's eyes. He growled. "You better not slow me down."

"Thou'rt the one still talking."

Magus glared at him for a moment longer, then turned to the broad castle doors only to find several of the soldiers lined up in front of him, and the Knight Captain before him.

"H-halt. By the order of King Guardia the twenty-first, for treason and other high crimes, I order you to stand down and surrender yourself." The Knight Captain's voice wavered at first but steadied towards the end. "And you, Frog or Glen or whoever you truly are, are likewise ordered to surrender yourself."

"What?" Frog's jaw dropped. "Upon what grounds?"

"I've always suspected you might be a spy. Your duplicity with Magus proves it. Both of you, give yourselves up."

Dark laughter echoed through the hallways, making everyone take a step back even though Magus didn't move. "And if I refuse? Will you shake your swords at me some more?"

"We have you surrounded," the Knight Captain said. "Brazenly infiltrating our stronghold will be your last arrogant mistake."

"No, thinking you can defeat me will be yours. After all, there's always time for a little fun." He raised his hands into the air. "How about it, Glen? How about a whole castle full of frogs?"

The threat and the screams from the servants roused Frog from his state of stupefaction. He tightened his grip on his sword and prepared to attack Magus. "Thou shalt not attack these people," he said. "Wrong or right, they do not deserve such a guise."

"True," Magus said. "Spineless slugs would suit them better."

Frog steeled himself. He didn't want to fight, especially not an enemy as strong or resourceful as Magus, but to protect the castle, his queen--a flash of light caught his eye and he turned. "Magus, look out!"

The wizard looked back as the Knight Captain brought his sword down towards his blue hair. A second later, Magus held the edge of the blade in his gloved hand. He smiled as the knight captain's eyes widened underneath his helmet.

"Surprised? I'm stronger than I was a year ago, much stronger. There's only one sword in the entire timestream that can possibly hurt me." He leaned a little closer. "And you don't have it."

"Magus, this serveth nothing," Frog said. "Our true enemies await."

"So eager to enter battle?" Magus grinned, showing off his fangs, and again everyone backed away. He stared at the crowd. "The only reason I'm letting you live is so that time is not disrupted. Presume to fight me again, and the history books will all tell of a great Guardia massacre." He sent a bolt of lightning down the captain's sword, making the knight drop, and stepped over him as if he were not there. The doors blew open in a great gust of wind and he walked out, head held high.

As Frog followed, the Knight Captain grasped at his leg. "Don't think your evil sorcerer can hide you," he said, his voice hardly more than a rasp. "We will find you and bring you to justice. We will destroy you, destroy all you evil mystics..." He blacked out then, and Frog jerked himself out of his hand. Unable to look back at his former allies, he hopped after Magus and vanished with him when the wizard teleported them out of sight.

When they reappeared again, they stood in front of the sign warning people not to trespass in the castle. Frog couldn't bear to look at it. It now warned him, too. Before anyone came out after them, they started moving, careful not to slip in the ground still soaked with rain and blood, and sidestepping the corpses yet to be moved. The stormclouds from the night before hadn't disappeared, now blotting out the sun and leaving the land in a pale gray light.

They traveled south to the bridge, finding that they were well ahead of news of their "betrayal." The lone guard positioned at the bridge welcomed him and his strange friend, waving them by and staring at how Magus floated rather than walked. The moment Magus had cleared the bridge, though, he extended his arms, pointed towards the center and summoned a dark bomb spell, blasting the bridge to splinters. Stunned beyond words, the guard stared at the damage for a moment, then turned and ran for the castle.

"Magus--!"

"Don't even start," Magus said. "I'm in no mood to deal with those fools and this will keep them out of my face. And alive. You don't like it, swim back across and help them rebuild it."

Frog would rather have tossed Magus into the strait, but he said nothing. The walk to the nearest town was short, and he hoped for news of their quarry, if nothing else for a fight that would distract him from his traveling companion. He was not surprised when they drew stares in Sandorino, they'd done so before when traveling with Crono and his friends. 

Instead of the inn, however, Magus walked first into the local merchant's shop. If his strange appearance was odd, Magus' glare was downright terrifying and made the shopkeep stumble back into his shelves. Ignoring the man's wide eyed stuttering, Magus scanned the shelves and trunks around him. "Your strongest ethers," he said. "And any capes and cloaks you carry."

The merchant bowed once and bent under the counter, coming back up with a large chest. He took out a heavy iron key and unlocked it, then opened it and began pulling out several cloaks, spreading them out enough for Magus to see them.

"If you d-don't need help with th-these," he said, "I'll see about those ethers."

Without looking at him, Magus nodded once. He took one glove off and ran his hand over the cloth of each cape, as if he could tell their properties by touch alone. If they were ensorcelled capes, Frog thought he might be able to at that. After a moment, Magus took one of the cloaks and threw it around his shoulders, raising the hood over his head. He glanced down at Frog, then grabbed one of the cloaks meant for children and tossed it at him. It landed on Frog's face and he yanked it off.

"What art thou doing?"

"Think, you little fool. You're too distinctive." Magus pulled out a leather pouch looped onto his belt and scooped out a handful of gold coins. As soon as the merchant returned with his ethers, he slipped the glass bottles somewhere under his cloak and tossed a few coins on the counter. Mistaking the gesture as an attack, the merchant stumbled backwards, but he soon recognized the stamp on the coins as Guardia currency. Even as the merchant was bowing again, Magus was walking out again. Hastily thanking the man, Frog hopped after the sorcerer.

"I see a year hath not taught thee better manners," he said.

"I paid for everything, didn't I?" He tugged his leather glove back on and made for the inn.

"Aye, there's that, at least."

A gust of wind blew over them, carrying a handful of snowflakes with it. Frog shivered and put the cloak about his shoulders, drawing the hood up over his head. He was surprised it fit. 

"I...thank thee. I'd not noticed winter hath begun," he said. 

Magus glanced at him but didn't answer. The inn doors creaked open and a few heads turned to see who was coming inside. Frog followed close as they went straight to the barkeep who was cleaning glasses behind the bar. Magus dropped a few coins onto the counter. The gold, well over what anything cost, sparkled in the firelight from the hearth. Though the man stared at the small pile a moment, he didn't reach for it.

"I need information," Magus said in a low voice. "Regarding mystics."

"We live in harmony with them," the bartender said. "You Northerners may despise them, but we've no quarrel with them now that Magus is gone."

"I don't plan on killing them. All of them, anyway."

"Are you a Guardian agent?" the bartender asked.

"I work for no man. My own life has been threatened by two mystics in particular. Have you heard anything about Flea and Slash lately?" He lowered his head so that only his red eyes gleamed in the firelight. "I know they're alive. I want to know where."

"The mystic generals?" His hands fumbled on the glass he was holding. "I...yes, there's been rumors...just speculation..."

"And what rumors would those be?"

"They...they're raising an army again...we've seen fewer mystics about."

"Yes, yes," Magus said, waving one hand. "I know all about that. Do you know where they are?"

"Even if I knew where they are, and not that I do, we have a truce with the mystics since the last war. They leave us alone and we do the same. It'd be suicide if any of us said anything--"

The glass had crashed to the ground before anyone had seen Magus move. An eyeblink, and he'd wrapped his hand around the man's throat, raising him a few inches from the floor. The noise in the inn stopped as everyone fell silent, watching the cloaked figure slowly strangle his victim. Frog's hand went to the Masamune, but Magus heard the steel slide in its scabbard and he spared a glance at his companion.

"Draw your sword and I _will_ kill him," he said. "And everyone else in here. You know I can do it before you can stop me." 

"Monster!" Frog tightened his hand on his hilt but he did not draw. "I'd thought thou wert showing signs of honor, but I see now I was truly deceived. Thou hast not changed at all."

"Spare me your philosophies," Magus said. "Suffice to say, you were wrong."

"Thou arrogant cur--"

"Arrogance is only confidence in someone you don't like." Magus squeezed the throat in his grip, making the barkeep's face turn a sick shade of blue. "Now back off."

With a glare worthy of the wizard, Frog took a step back. Magus coldly smiled at him. "Was that so hard?" He set his victim back on his feet but he didn't let go. "Now you listen, fool, and you listen well. If you think Flea and Slash are bad, you haven't seen anything. It's suicide if you rat them out? It's suicide if you don't tell me, and I'm the one with his claws around your throat. Where are they!"

"I said...didn't know..." The man's eyes were starting to bug out and wet gurgles came from his throat as he tried to breath. His feet scrambled on the floor, trying to back away, and his hands grasped Magus'. "S'truth..."

"Dammit," Frog said, "let the poor man go. He cannot be lying."

"You think I'm going to believe that?" With his free hand, Magus grabbed the barkeep's hand and raised it into view. "You forget, I know those two well. I'd know Slash's mark anywhere."

With the hand in the light, Frog could clearly see the blue ring on the human's hand. The crest on the top was the same as the shields held by the dragon statues in Magus' old castle. "A spy?"

"Not quite." He dragged the barkeep over the counter and threw him onto the nearest table, splintering it. "You remember Slash's cadaver friends, don't you?"

Now that he was looking at the rest of the people, Frog saw that they were all standing and facing them, unblinking. He leaped back as blue flames engulfed each of them, burning away their skins and flesh and leaving them skeletons. Behind them, the door to the sleeping quarters opened and more skeletons came out. As one, they moved forward, drawing spears and swords as they surrounded him and Magus.

Frog hopped up onto the bar, sword held high. "Magus, come off the floor. One rush of water shouldst dispel these creatures."

Not wanting to get wet, Magus alighted next to him, but as he turned to face the monsters again, he frowned. More than usual, at least.

"I don't think so," he said, sweeping his cape back. "Look out the windows."

The glass in the closest window shattered even as Frog turned his attention towards it. Shards blew into the room as each window exploded with more skeletons coming inside. As they piled inside, the center of the room swirled with shadows, as if the skeletons already inside were caught in a dark whirlwind. With the roar of the storm and the mystics' screaming, they could hardly hear their own spells.

"Damn," Magus said. "They're merging!" He launched his fastest spells, bursts of lightning and fire, trying to break the creatures up. As many as he vaporized, though, more poured inside to take their place. Even more ignored the merging storm and instead attacked head-on, using their sheer numbers to drive the pair behind the bar for shelter. In such close quarters, Magus couldn't draw his scythe and Frog couldn't use the Masamune for fear of slashing the wizard.

"They're weak little bastards, but there's too many of them," Magus said, burning swaths through their numbers. "They've cut off our exits."

"Think not of running!" Frog yelled over the noise. "Who wouldst run from glorious battle?"

Crazy knight, Magus thought. With the enemies immediately around him dead, he could spare a brief glance at the space behind the bar. Cords of wood, a roaring hearth, a cask of wine... 

A moment later, the screech of a fully formed merge drowned out everything else. Frog and Magus dispatched the rest of the mystics around them and looked up. And up. And up.

Gray bones filled the room from floor to ceiling, and although its shape was awkwardly made, Frog though that it was probably taller than the roof and was simply crouching down. It looked like the skeleton of a dragon, its four legs bracing its weight up off the ground as its tail swept back and forth, splintering what chairs and tables had remained intact and smashing any skeletons unfortunate enough to be in its way. It reared back its massive head, the horns gouging out chunks in the roof, and its roar shook the walls. Bits of mortar and stone crumbled about it.

And when it looked at Frog, turned its glowing red eyes on him and opened its mouth, displaying its sharp fangs with another howl, he certainly thought of running. Charitably, though, not from the battle itself, but at least into open ground.

The pause in the battle was broken as Magus drew his scythe. Even as he raised it, the dragon leaped forward, slamming through the bar and into the opposite wall. Frog was only saved by diving out of the way behind Magus and using the cloak as a shield from flying debris. Magus swung his blade through the cask of wine, spilling the red liquid across the floor. He wasted no time putting the scythe away and instead carried it in one hand, grabbed Frog with the other and teleported across the room, next to the door. He threw his blade and his companion out into the snow and turned around.

The dragon was back on its feet, but it was still facing the wall. It craned its long neck around so that its head faced Magus, and through its opened mouth the wizard could see the red glow as it began to laboriously cough up its flames. He looked at the floor. There was no way its fire would hit the ground, not at that angle, and there was preciously little time now. He cast a fire spell as fast as he could, but even as the wine ignited, the dragon spit its own fireball at him. It streaked towards him like a comet, but its aim had been off. Magus' fire had partially obscured him, so that instead of punching through his body, it merely exploded at his feet.

His ability to float saved him from slamming into one of the trees and breaking his neck. Able to control himself even in midair, he slowed down and landed on his back in the snow. He shook off the excess snow in his hair and face and stood up, watching the flames consume the inn. A fireball exploded out the side, destroying half of it in a blaze, and the dragon stumbled through the hole it had made. Its bones were charred black and smoking, but it was still moving. It roared in anger and spit another fireball in anger, destroying another building. By the way it swung its head about, Magus figured it couldn't see him.

A meow whispered in the back of his mind. "Not yet," he said softly. "Stay put, Alfador. It's not over yet."

A loud crunch of snow to his right got his attention, but he didn't bother looking. "Didn't think I threw you this far out."

"Methinks thou took more pleasure in throwing me than thou knowst." Frog already had the Masamune in his hands, ready to attack. "Art thou well? That explosion--"

"It's a dragon," Magus said, as if that explained everything. "And it's not dead yet, if you hadn't noticed."

"Where are the townspeople?" Frog asked, looking around the buildings. Every window was dark. The only light came from the burning inn and the smoldering ashes along the dragon's bones.

"Probably they're what the dragon's made of," Magus said. "I had wondered what happened to the village, why we didn't see it in the future."

They watched it for a moment as it stumbled on three legs. One of its front legs was pure black and looked as if it was turned to charcoal, but the dragon didn't seem to feel any pain. It lit another house on fire simply for more light by which to search for its enemies.

"Magus, how shall we defeat what is already dead? We cannot burn it, and methinks we cannot blast it apart." 

"Like hell we can't," Magus said as he stood up, brushing the snow from his cape. He picked up his scythe and started towards the dragon. "We just aren't trying hard enough."

As he came closer, he stepped into the glow of the burning buildings. Firelight reflected off his scythe. The dragon had turned its back to him as it scanned the whole town, but soon it heard the snow crunching underneath his boots. It whipped its tail around, trying to strike him, but Magus leaped into the air and landed on its back. His scythe sliced deep into its spine, cutting it in two, and he jumped sideways to dodge the fireball it spit at him. While he escaped unscathed, it blackened its own bones and the deep crack that Magus had made now widened, splitting down the length of its back.

The distraction wouldn't last long, Magus knew, and he rushed to take advantage of it, sliding underneath its ribs. He started to chant a dark matter spell but before he could finish, the dragon tried to lay on top of him. Its ribs crashed down around him, the sharpened points missing his skin as he slid between the large bones, but he couldn't dodge them again as the dragon rose back up. The curved ribs caught him as if they were a cage, and he found himself trapped inside its body. His scythe was knocked from his hand and landed in the snow out of his reach.

After a moment, he realized this was safer, despite the bruising ride. The dragon couldn't spit at him now, and its claws couldn't reach him. He cast an ice spell on its back, covering the gaping wound in frost. Another ice spell, and another, and another, and now the backbone was frozen solid.

"Frog," he yelled, trying to be heard over the fires and the screeching. "You useless amphibian, break its back!"

Frog heard him easily. He stood only a few feet away, waiting for a opening that wouldn't force him to slice the wizard in half as well. Since Magus couldn't actually see him either, he didn't try to hide his laughter as he watched him struggle to hang onto the bars of his "cage" lest he slip down and skewer himself on those ribs.

"Mayhap this is the only time I shall see thee in a prison," he said in a low voice. "A shame it shan't last."

The Masamune hummed, as if the spirits inside were straining at the leash, and the blade glowed with its true energy. Frog raised it into the air and leaped as high as he could, coming down right on top of the weak spot on its spine. His blade swung down, the ice and bone shattered, and the dragon split in two.

With the back legs lying useless on the ground, the dragon dragged itself by its one good arm. Magus toppled out of the severed ribs, grabbing his scythe as he landed. His footing cut out from under him, Frog landed several meters away, headfirst in the snow.

Magus was already chanting a dark matter spell as the dragon struggled to come about, its one set of claws digging into the ground to drag itself in a broad circle. By the time it could actually see Magus, two triangles had formed above it, circling closer together. Magus didn't get to see the imminent explosion, though. Behind him, the dragon's lower half was still moving. With the dragon able to see him, it could control its severed tail long enough for one last attack.

All Magus felt was something heavy slamming against his side, flinging him again through the air. There was no time to slow himself. He crashed into a stone wall and slid to the ground, stars flashing before his eyes. There was a dark matter explosion some distance away, but he couldn't be bothered now to look, too occupied with the pain. His leg was bent at an unnatural angle, he couldn't move either of his arms, and he was coughing blood. Something was bleeding on the inside, and he couldn't move to find one of his healing draughts. After a moment of pain settling on his body, the darkness swallowed his vision and he blacked out.

The dark matter spell shattered the dragon apart, sending bone shards falling from the sky. Frog hid in the doorway of one of the few houses left unburnt, waiting for all the debris to land and making sure the lower half was inert before venturing out again. He hopped towards the fallen sorcerer, kneeling beside him and taking stock of his injuries. Blood everywhere, the jagged end of a snapped bone protruding from one of his legs, his arms with the limp, useless look of shattered bones. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He reminded Frog of the dead king, but there was still a ragged breath, a shuddering of his body even as he fought to breathe. Alfador slipped out from a fold in his cloak and lay down on his master's lap, a small bundle of purple fur that was already starting to shiver. 

There was no hesitation this time. Frog's healing spell appeared as thousands of tiny lights appearing inches above the wizard and slowly drifting down onto him, sinking through his clothes and skin. Frog still wasn't sure how the spell itself worked, but the wounds closed and Magus was soon breathing easily again. He didn't wake up, though, and the snow was starting to come down harder. Frog looked up at the sky. Though there was no moon, the flames gave him enough light to see the snowflakes flying by thicker and faster. The wind was picking up, too, threatening a blizzard.

"Hold a moment," Frog told the cat. "I shall return."

He stood up and walked to the center of town. By now the fire had spread over the wooden rooftops and now engulfed most of the town. Only the corner they were in were unscathed. First things first, he had to stop the fire from consuming these last few buildings without dousing himself or Magus in the process. His spells poured across the town, the water freezing in midair and sparkling like diamonds until they melted again in the fires they doused. One by one, each blaze went out, a sodden, smoking rubble of an inn, a house, the merchant's shop. Everything but a handful of structures was gutted and ruined.

Slash and Flea, Frog thought. Sure they art the ones responsible for this. Killing and turning every single person...

He grimaced and turned away. There was nothing to be done for them now. The best he could do was somehow manage Magus' unconscious body into the nearest house and find shelter from the elements. Again he found himself pleased with his body's strength, if not its form. Though Magus was not heavy, he was larger than Frog and maneuvering him might have been difficult otherwise. He set him on one of the beds and went to the hearth to rebuild the fire. The family that had once lived there had left a roast cooking before it, and he doubted they would be coming back. He wondered how long ago Flea and Slash had slaughtered the people there. Perhaps immediately after their attack on the castle. Or maybe the people had gone through the motions of life for days, weeks.

Alfador left his master for the warm stones around the fire and sat down, letting his fur soak up the heat. Outside the howled, rattling the door in its frame and shaking the windows. Frost patterns were already forming on the glass. With the fire built, Frog turned his attention to the rest of the house. He barricaded it with the excess furniture around the house. One by one he shut the shutters on the windows, hiding the light inside from any mystics that might try to brave the storm.

Hours passed. Frog couldn't tell how long. He drifted in and out of sleep, lulled to sleep by the constant howl of the wind. The only light came from the fire, and he tossed another log into the hearth. The flames slowly crept over it, bringing a wisp of smoke from it, and the wood turned black and glowed around the edges. Frog leaned back in his chair and watched the fire flicker. He could feel the draft coming down from the chimney, but the fire warmed it so it at least wasn't too noticeable. 

A faint groan came from the bed. Frog looked over in time to see Magus sit up, one hand pressed to his head, his eyes closed.

"Thou art well, I trust?"

"I was thrown against a wall, stupid pond-hopper, how would you feel?" He took a deep breath and swung his legs over the side, sitting up straight. "How long was I out?"

"In this storm, I cannot say." Frog laughed once as he looked at the windows. "Thou didst not have to destroy the bridge after all. No one can move in such weather."

"Some mystics can."

"'Tis why I have shut up all these windows," Frog said. A pity I can't shut up thy mouth. "We are lucky to have this house. The rest of the town is destroyed by thy fire."

"I wasn't the one spitting fire." Speaking of fires, he glanced at the rest of the roasting meat on the spit before the hearth. No doubt Frog had left it for him, but the sight of that dead flesh turned his stomach. He ran one hand through his blue hair and stood up, swaying slightly. 

"Thou should not get up so soon," Frog said. "Thy injuries were nigh fatal."

"As fatal as the king's?" Magus said. He wasn't surprised when he didn't get an answer. Instead he walked through the room, giving Alfador a brief pat on the head, and then went to the door and brushed the barricade aside with a wave of his hand.

"Where art thou going? Thou canst go outside, thou shalt surely freeze to death. Stay and eat."

Magus held up one hand. "I won't freeze. I should be back in an hour."

"Magus--"

Too late. The door opened, letting in a blast of cold air and snowflakes, and then Magus disappeared into the white wall, his cape swirling a few seconds just before he slammed the door shut.

While Frog cursed his stupidity, Magus walked through the snowstorm, head bowed and his cape drawn tight over his shoulders. He could barely hear the snow crunching underfoot, though he could see it well. If anyone had been with him at the time, they would have noticed his eyes reflecting the scant light and glowing a light shade of red. Though ideally he would have gone to the mountains just outside the town, a blizzard was not the best traveling condition. He also had a feeling his enemies lurked nearby, and he didn't want to change meeting them in a dark, snowy mountain, especially after his recent battle. Despite Frog's spell, his muscles ached with every movement.

Hunting in a snowstorm was normally a fool's errand, but already he'd spotted his prey. A brown rabbit huddled at the base of a tree, hiding from the elements. Magus had a feeling it was drowsy from the cold, perhaps even freezing to death. As he came up behind it, he nodded to himself. Either it couldn't hear him or it was already half-dead. No need to even use his claws. Slowly bending and sweeping his arm out, he grasped its ears and yanked it up, then put one hand on its neck and wrenched its head around until he heard a crack. The rabbit became so much dead weight. He hefted it once. Large, too. Plenty to feed from.

In the minor shelter the tree gave from the wind, he bent its head back and sank his fangs into its throat. Blood welled out of the wounds and he drank deep, not stopping until the blood wouldn't come anymore. He raised his head and sighed, his mouth red with blood. After a moment's thought, he carried the body with him back to the house.

The Masamune nearly took his head off when he opened the door. Frog stood in front of him, sword raised, ready to slice. Despite himself, Magus froze. He'd been on the receiving end of that blade before, and he still hated to think of it. Bad memories.

"Thou fool," Frog hissed, putting his sword back. "I might have slain thee."

Magus ignored him and walked inside, tossing the rabbit beside the fire. "We may be stuck inside for awhile."

Frog closed and barricaded the door again. He sat down at the hearth and picked up the rabbit. "A good sized catch, I must admit. How didst thou find it in such a storm?"

For a moment, Magus hesitated. "I can see better in the dark than in daylight."

"That surpriseth me little," Frog said. "I should've expected that answer." As he turned the body over, the rabbit's head lolled on its snapped neck, exposing the two fang marks and the streak of blood still on the fur. "Fangs? Didst another creature beat thee to the mark? If there is any chance 'twas rabid, we canst not eat."

Magus sat down on the bed, smirking. "Not quite. That's my handiwork. As for eating it, the body's yours. I've had my fill."

It took Frog a moment of puzzling over the unfamiliar marks and the lack of blood dripping out of the carcass before he fully understood. "Thou...thou drank its blood?" Frog recoiled from him, his large mouth twisting into a grimace. "Truly?"

"Truly." With the back of his hand, he wiped a few stray drops from his mouth. "What are you staring for? I drink its blood, you eat its flesh. Consider which is more ghoulish."

"Thou art a vampire?"

Magus shrugged. Didn't know, didn't care.

The rabbit was quickly skinned, spitted and roasted, though Magus wasn't sure if that was because Frog was hungry or afraid the rabbit might come back from the dead. He watched the knight hunch over the fire, never venturing closer. Hopefully the storm would die down soon, or at least lessen so they could head out and kill his enemies. Not tired, he leaned back in bed and thought back over what he remembered from his research. He couldn't figure out which queen had first received Schala's pendant, he hadn't found any mention of a blue-haired woman, nor even mention of magicks until the Mystic war of 600 A.D. He put one hand on the amulet around his neck, Schala's amulet. It had safeguarded him through the years. He had no doubt it would eventually lead him to her.

*~*

TBC...


	3. Encounter at the Sun Cave

****

Part Three

The blizzard raged through most of the night but blew itself out sometime late in the morning. Ice covered the windows so thickly that they couldn't see anything but white. When Frog opened the door, however, they realized that the ice wasn't too thick. Snow formed another wall outside the door.

"The blizzard hast snowed us in," Frog said. 

"No, really?" Magus flipped his cape over his shoulder and held his arms out, then slowly moved his hands in a set pattern. "Nara seto mezena shire, summon forth the path of fire and open the gates to hell...Frog, you might want to move..."

No sooner did he give the warning than a dense spiral of black fire shot out from his hands. Only Frog's strongest jump saved him from being vaporized, and even then the edge of his cape was singed. The wooden door turned to ash and the stone around it melted, steaming as melted snow pooled around their feet. There was little to puddle as the heat was so intense the snow instantly evaporated. As soon as it started, the firestorm ended, leaving tiny wisps of smoke on Magus' gloves.

"Quickly," he said, "ice the sides or it'll collapse in again."

Mentally cursing the wizard, Frog froze the walls of snow on either side of their newly made path. "I see thou hast learned a few new tricks."

"Of course. I can't afford to squander my talents."

"Some talent. Hast thee learned any healing spells yet?"

The wizard snorted and hovered down their ice path. Frog hopped after him, wishing he hadn't iced the ground so thoroughly as he slid with each step.

"Wait. Whither--"

"Oh for the love of God," Magus growled and clenched his fists. "'Whither' this," he muttered in a poor parody of Frog's accent, "'mine liege' that, 'wherefore art thou'..."

If he had hair, Frog would've bristled. "Mine apologies," he said, deliberately thickening his accent. "'Tis merely the way I speak."

"You're the only one in the world that speaks like that. Did you learn from another idiot or were you a freak even before I changed you?"

No answer. Magus glanced at Frog and found him staring straight ahead, ignoring the mage as if he weren't even there. A hint of a smile passed over Magus' face. Bullseye.

"Actually, as I remember it, you didn't sound at all like this when Cyrus died. Did you change it so no one would recognize you?"

"I'm in no mood for thy words, wizard."

Magus gave a humorless laugh. "It's hard, isn't it? Hide behind a mask long enough, and the mask becomes your true face."

"What wouldst thou know of masks?" Frog said. "Thou hast committed thy crimes with neither shame nor remorse, flouting thy sins and laughing the while. Always time for a bit of fun, no?"

"Yes, defending myself from a self-righteous knight and his cowardly squire, such a sin. I should've just bowed and let him chop off my head, is that it?"

"Cyrus was a good man!" Frog stopped and turned, his hand automatically going to his hilt. "He sought thee out for thy crimes, for thy evil!"

"Evil?" Magus' eyes blazed red. "You're right, I don't feel remorse for any of my actions. I hate your humans as much as I hate the mystics."

"Aye, I gathered as much in our prior travels. 'Twas why I couldst never understand why thou took part in the war--"

"God, the war." Magus looked up at the sky as if expecting a response. "Why should I care about two races not my own, in a time not my own, when there was a giant parasite under the ground?"

"But thou were't worshipped," Frog said.

"I appeared in a flash of light. They thought God had answered their prayers."

"A cruel answer. And thou didst not disillusion them."

"I was a child, give me a break. I was used to royal treatment, and just coming into my powers..." He shook his head. "This is ridiculous. I'm not going to argue out here in the snow."

Frog didn't think their argument was done, but he followed after the wizard with no protest. Towards the foot of the mountain, their uniquely dug corridor tapered off, leaving them exposed to the wind. Frog pulled his cloak closer and felt gratified to see Magus do the same. At least it wasn't Death Peak, he thought.

"Thinkest thou they shall be on the summit?"

"No. There's a cave near the top, an old refuge for hunted mystics."

"Then we may look forward to meeting another small army."

"Perhaps."

The trek up the mountain became difficult, and they stopped talking. Ice burned their hands through their gloves. Frog fell behind Magus and walked in his footsteps, since they made it easier to follow in the deep snow. He wished he could hop over the snow instead of slogging through, but the winds were too strong and too sudden to chance it. No wonder Magus wasn't flying.

Halfway up he turned and looked over the side. From his vantage he saw the whole country down to Fiona's lonely cottage and the shrinking desert wasteland, all icy grey. Sandorino now looked like a campfire, burned out and ashen. He glanced towards the channel between the two continents and spotted what looked like an army of ants, but he knew those were Guardia soldiers and workers rushing to rebuild the bridge. That they would work even in this weather made it obvious just how much they wanted the two fugitives.

No doubt the smoke from Sandorino would drive them faster. Frog felt his shoulders slump, suddenly heavy as the full weight of what he'd done settled on him. There was no castle to return to, not for him. Perhaps he could return to his old dwelling in the forest? Or maybe travel across the ocean and find a secluded island. Anything so he wouldn't have to see Leene look on him in anger and betrayal. Maybe even another time…

"We're here."

The sorcerer's voice startled him out of his brooding. Frog glanced up at the cave in the side of the mountain, but it too dark to see more than a few feet inside. Without waiting for him, Magus lit a small flame inside his hand and walked inside, and Frog hastened to keep up. It didn't help that Magus could take longer strides.

The first scream startled him backwards. The cave filled with frightened shrieks and cries, and Frog wondered if the wizard had led them into trouble. He'd half-drawn the Masamune as he drew up beside Magus, but he froze when he saw them. Dozens of female mystics with smaller creatures, no doubt their children, all huddled together. Some averted their eyes, some pressed themselves against the cave wall. Most were crying. A few of them, nagas with burns and battle wounds, rose up on their tails, but Frog doubted they would be able to fight at all.

"Did Flea and Slash came through here?" Magus demanded. 

The nagas exchanged a glance, and one of them nodded wordlessly. Magus wasted no time and walked between them, his cloak brushing against their scales. None of them moved to stop him, nor Frog when he hopped by. Deeper in the cave there were fewer mystics to hear them, so Frog chanced a comment.

"Hardly an army," he whispered. "Why do they hide here?"

"It's winter, they have wounded, and they've just lost most of their men." He cracked his knuckles one by one, the pops muffled by his thick gloves. "It serves us well enough. I doubt they have any sympathy for my former generals now."

"But…" Frog glanced over his shoulder at the mystics, most of them watching them closely and ready to bolt if necessary. "'Tis winter. If none of them canst hunt…"

"…then they starve." Magus stopped and looked down at him. "What do you care? You cut them down easily enough a few days ago."

"They attacked us! I have never sought out a battle with them."

"Humans did. You fight for the humans." He pulled one glove tight as he walked. "You think your knights will leave them alive when they discover them?"

Frog stopped. Would they? He'd only ever fought mystics already attacking him, in glorious battle where both sides won honor for themselves. But the knights, they didn't think like him. Even before the war, mystics were to be shunned and driven out. Only in the southern part of the continent did a few mystics live side by side with humans, and even those were far and few between. No, he knew if the knights followed them, then all these mystics would die.

"We canst not leave them," he said. "We must protect them, help--"

"Delusional fool," Magus said, turning back towards him. "You think they'll follow you? And even if they forgot how many of theirs you'd killed, do you think you can move so many children and wounded so quickly, outrun your knights? If it came to a fight, would you kill your former comrades?"

"But 'tis wrong to let them die."

"Forget them. They're a lost cause. Hell, they're practically dead already."

"'Tis not fair!"

"I thought you knew life wasn't fair." Magus half-smiled. "You're the frog traveling with the bastard who changed you."

While Frog seethed, the wizard glanced at the back of the cave only a few feet away. In the darkness, a sparkle of light was the only indication that something was there. Magus waved his hand over it, chanting something Frog could faintly hear, and the sparkle turned into a familiar gate that lit the cave blue.

"What?" Frog gasped. "I thought those had disappeared!"

"Not quite. Your 'entity' must like a little variety in its life because this is the way I travel." He stepped into the gate, and Frog hesitated only a second before following him in. Even though he didn't know where they would end up, the sensation of traveling through a gate, the rush of colors and speed and nervousness, felt wondrously familiar. This was what he'd missed while living those long boring spaces between battles, throwing himself headlong into the unknown and future combat.

They appeared in the same cave, but even in the darkness they could tell something was different. It was warm and bright sunlight sparkled at the opening. Frog hopped ahead and looked out over the landscape. Everything was green, including what had once been Fiona's desert, and the ground where Sandorino had once stood was now a grassy field.

"I think we mayhaps be in Crono's time," he said, glancing back at Magus. No sooner had he turned than an arrow flew past his face and embedded itself in the rock. He stumbled back a step and drew his sword, looking for his attacker, while Magus drew his scythe. A second later, a blonde female came running out of the bushes.

"Oh geez, Frog, I'm so sorry!" Marle said, putting her crossbow up and giving him a giant hug. "I never expected to see you here. At all! Oh my God, it's so good to see you again." 

With a relieved sigh, Frog sheathed the Masamune and grinned. "Princess, 'tis good to see thee again, though I didst not expect thou here either."

"Crono and Lucca are around here, too," she said, then noticed Magus. "Whoa…you two are traveling together?"

"Not my fault," Magus said. "He insisted. Have you seen Slash or Flea?"

"So that's who're we're after," she said, looking down in thought. "We heard about a pair of powerful mystics making trouble near Porre, so me and Crono and Lucca came down to investigate."

"It must be them. Porre, thou sayest?" Frog looked around again at the much changed scenery and took off his cape, folding it over his arm. "Ist' summer? We came during a harsh winter." 

"Yup. C'mon, let's go down and meet the others. I'm sure they'll be thrilled to see you." Marle motioned for them to follow and started back down the mountain. "We've been hearing really nasty things about these mystics, and I wasn't looking forward to meeting them."

"How long have they been here?" Magus asked, keeping his own cloak on. He was used to the cool winds on the Zeal continent, and then the subterranean lairs of the mystics. At least this way he could keep the sun off of his back.

"We're not sure, but we've been getting reports since last week."

"Last week?" Frog glanced at Magus. "Mayhaps 'tis not our quarry."

Pausing under a giant oak, Marle glanced over her shoulder at them. Her voice became quiet. "They've been killing people who live out in the woods, outside of the towns. We got to examine one of the houses. It was awful."

"Blood splattered everywhere?" Magus asked. "The bodies seemed to have disappeared?"

"That's it exactly," she said. "How did you know?"

"There's only one reason to slaughter humans, besides revenge. Humans who suffer violent deaths give off a certain type of energy." He tugged absently on one glove, as if he were discussing nothing but the weather. "It's perfect for transformation spells."

Frog stared at him. "Thou meanest...like thou didst to me?"

"Right. You can save it up, so you don't need to perform a sacrifice before every transformation."

"Save it?" Marle tilted her head, curious despite herself. "How?"

"It comes out as multicolored light that you can catch and bag." He reached into the sash around his waist and produced a small pouch. "I still have three saved."

Marle and Frog looked at his hand with wide eyes and both took a step back.

"You killed people?" Marle whispered. "Innocent people?"

"Innocent? Hardly." He smiled and put the pouch back. "Cyrus is number three."

"What?" Frog gasped. "Thou hast his soul imprisoned for thy black magicks--?"

"Don't be so damn dramatic, it's just energy." Magus waved one hand dismissively and walked past them. "If it was his soul, he wouldn't have spoken to you at his grave, would he?"

"But to profit from death..." Since the wizard showed no signs of stopping, Frog hopped faster to catch up to him. Marle trailed behind.

There was no reason to tread carefully. No monsters jumped out at them, no bushes rustled as they went by. Nothing but the peaceful twittering of birds and the wind through the trees. That was probably what set Marle so much on edge, Magus figured. When you're used to dozens of creatures attacking you en masse, the sudden silence was unnerving.

"You're so naive, even now," he said. "We profited by Lavos' death, hell, your kingdom just slaughtered a whole army of mystics and will probably finish off the survivors, if they haven't already. Tell me no one was celebrating their victory."

"You fought an army?" Marle asked, putting her hand on Frog's shoulder. "How long ago?"

"Several centuries by thy reckoning, though 'twas less than a handful of days by mine."

"That's not right," she said. "Our history books say that all the fighting stopped after Crono and us came through. Are you sure--?"

"Aye, and we lost our king in the process."

"You're not the best scholar in the world, princess. Maybe we should ask if you're sure?"

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "I'm not that bad, it's just boring! But I know it shouldn't have happened that way."

"Perhaps 'tis the absence of Lavos that affects time so?" Frog said. "That this is the way things ought to have been?"

Marle shook her head. "I don't know. If time is acting up again, we might have more important things to worry about than Flea and Slash. We need to ask Lucca right away."

"You're the ones still talking," Magus said as he started walking again.

Marle and Frog exchanged a look. "Just as cheery as ever, isn't he?"

"Thou knowest not the half of it."

They met Crono and Lucca at the bottom of the mountain, the pair of them surrounded by a small group of humans, most likely the woods dwellers who had found the bodies or were simply together out of fear. As Magus walked out of the cover of the trees, they backed away, making a path towards the two heroes. When the humans they were talking to spotted him and looked askance, they glanced back and gasped.

"Magus," Lucca said, her hand automatically moving to her gun. In her mind she put together everything they knew about the murders and found a convenient answer presented to her. "Tell me you aren't the one we're looking for."

"Not today. Flea and Slash are the ones you want. They killed your humans for transformative energy."

Marle ran past him with Frog in tow. "Look who I found!" She watched as Lucca grinned and swamped Frog in yet another hug. "He says they just came from a huge battle that shouldn't have happened and they fought a dead dragon and came through a gate."

Crono scratched his head in confusion but Lucca latched onto the most important detail. "A gate? I those had closed again. Have you found a way to make new ones?"

"No need," Magus said. "They already exist. I just travel through them."

"Weird," she said. "We haven't seen any gates at all."

"Nor have I," Frog said. "Though Magus knew exactly where to find it."

"Like last time, they're usually in the same spot regardless of the era." Magus pulled his hood a little lower to shield his eyes. The summer sun was high in the sky and blinding. "Once I find one, it never moves."

"How many have you found?" Lucca started to ask, then shook her head. "No, hold on. We can do this later. First we need to find Slash and Flea and--"

A loud explosion cut her off, drawing screams from the gathered humans. They all turned and saw the fireball rising out of the forest, branches and limbs bursting in all directions, and then two figures flew into the air. One was pink with a flowing white dress, the other was purple with dark stains on his clothes, mostly likely blood. Both now had large wings growing from their backs. As one, they flew off to the east and disappeared.

"Late again," Magus mumbled.

"Was that them?" Marle asked. "Since when do they have wings?"

Lucca looked down at the ground, in deep thought. "They must have wanted that energy to transform themselves. But wait, there were more than two people killed. Why kill so many?"

"How many died?" Frog asked.

"Twenty or so," Marle said. "We can't be sure since the bodies all disappear."

Magus tugged on one glove as he considered. Inwardly, Frog wondered if he could grab those gloves someday and throw them away. The wizard's habit was starting to irritate him.

"Twenty," Magus said, more to himself than them. They listened anyway. "It's enough to lay the groundwork for a large spell. But they can't have enough power between them to carry it through. Flea couldn't even manage very large wind spells when he attacked me before."

"Could they kill more people to get that power?" Marle asked.

"No, it's no good for boosting power, just transformations. It's very specific." He looked back at the spot where the pair had disappeared. "They must have transformed to get to some sort of booster."

With a startled gasp of realization, Crono grabbed Lucca's shoulder.

"Oh my God, the Sun Stone," she said. "I put it back in the cave after I used it. They must be after that."

"Impossible," Frog said, "'twas used up when thou made thy weapons."

"True," Magus said, "but obviously those two know how to find and use gates. Maybe there's one on the island that I never found."

"If they take it before we used it," Lucca said, "it'll cause a paradox. Who knows what might happen?"

"We have to follow them," Marle said. "And try to beat them there."

A bitter laugh made them all look at Magus, who swept one edge of his cloak back. "You'll never catch up to them. Try not to be too upset when I bring them back in pieces, Frog. Wouldn't want to offend your sensibilities."

Lucca put her hand out, trying to catch his cloak as he bent slightly. "Wait, Magus, you can't--"

"What, did you forget I can fly?" He leaped into the air and didn't come down, moving high up into the clouds until they couldn't see him anymore.

"He hasn't changed at all," Marle said, "has he?"

Tapping the Masamune's hilt as he thought, Frog stared into the sky after the wizard. "'Tis difficult to say. He's as arrogant as ever, yet he did promise to bring them back to us. And he hath aided Guardia in her latest battles against the mystics, as reluctant as he was to do so." He smiled despite himself. Though he was exiled in his own era and he didn't want to dwell on his loss or how he would explain the situation, being with his former comrades again facing a worthy enemy made the pain ebb. While his era knew mainly winter and darkness, summer never seemed to leave Crono's time.

Sighing, Lucca put her goggles down over her face and headed for the edge of the forest. "Great, so he's still an idiot, just a nicer idiot. Come on, let's go after him before he gets into real trouble."

"But thou destroyed the Epoch," Frog said, hopping after her. "Unless thou hast learned to fly...?"

"Dismantled, not destroyed," she said, grabbing the edge of a bush and pulling it up, revealing a camouflaged canvas and the stainless steel beneath it. "Behold, the Epoch III! It flies faster, farther and now seats up to five people! No more of that three to a life-threatening trip anymore." She pressed a button on a remote and the clear plastic top slid back, revealing two front seats and three behind those.

"'Tis truly impressive," Frog said, climbing in with Marle and Crono and letting her fasten a safety harness across his lap. "But why Epoch III? Because of Dalton's interference?" 

"Er...well..."

Marle laughed as she buckled herself in. "Because the Epoch II blew up."

"What?" Strapped in as he was, Frog found that he couldn't escape his seat. He glanced at Crono and found him sitting with his hands tightly gripping the armrests, his eyes squeezed shut. "Ah, perhaps we shouldst wait for Magus' return, loathe as I am to suggest it."

The console lit up with blinking buttons and read-outs and the plastic top slid back over them, clicking into place. Lucca readjusted her goggles and grabbed the steering rig. "Engines to power..."

The engines whirled beneath them, making the vehicle hum. An electrical whine filled the cockpit. "Turbines to speed..." The hum turned into a loud vibration and white smoke poured from beneath the exhaust pipes. The Epoch rose a foot off the ground and hovered, lurching slightly to one side. She pressed her foot down on one of two pedals on the floor, revving the engines once. "Hang on tight! Here we go!"

With a brilliant flash, the Epoch zoomed into the sky, leaving behind an amazed group of people and a patch of steamed grass.

Farther ahead, Magus held his hand in front of his face to block the wind. He'd grown more powerful in the last year, allowing him to fly faster, but that didn't help his eyes or the threat of crashing into a flock of birds. The cold air in the higher atmosphere was a welcome relief, as was the cover the clouds offered. Ice crystals formed along his cloak and his hair.

Beneath him, the ocean spread out in all directions and sparkled in the sun. A pod of dolphins skimmed across the top of the water, while darker shapes swam below the surface. He watched them for a moment. Thousands of years in the past, he had looked over the edge of his world and watched them, wishing he could get a closer look. In all the years since, he'd never gone. He looked ahead again. There still wasn't time.

Not far ahead, the Sun Cave rose into view. He spotted his prey landing on the beach and heading inside. A few minutes later, he landed and paused a the cave's entrance. He hadn't seen anyone come out again. He brought his scythe out from under his cloak and held it ready to swing.

A meow whispered in his head. "Not now," he said, stepping inside. "First I have to kill these two."

For something called the Sun Cave, there was little light inside. Only a strong ray coming down at the far end of the cave. The rest of the stone swallowed up any reflections or diffused light. His boots made little noise as he walked, glancing around himself even though he didn't hear anyone else. Putting one hand over his eyes to shield them, he stepped right up to the light and knelt, examining the ground. The stone was gone. Footsteps ranged over the loose sand of the area, along with long streaks that showed where a robe's edge had dragged.

"They were here already," he said to himself. "And they couldn't have gone far yet." He glanced up. He hadn't seen them come out of the front, and maybe they'd seen him giving chase. They'd probably escaped up as he came in. 

There was a rustle from the cave's mouth and a bit of sand that slipped over the lip, drifting down in front of him, as if someone trying to be quiet had accidentally nudged it. He grinned and drew the blade back, ready to swing it when he was at the top. Deep breath, and then he flew straight up.

A searing burst of fire through his body told him he'd flown into a trap. Light erupted around him and he shut his eyes before they could be damaged. Crying out, he blindly sliced his scythe out and felt it meet some resistance. Another scream, this time Slash's, and he smiled despite the pain. Unable to see where he was going, he slammed into the side of the entrance and lost his bearings. As he began to fall back towards the ground, he flung the scythe down out of his hands and cast a spell, sending dark mist shooting up towards his enemies. The spell left his hands just seconds before he hit the sand below.

Silence. They hadn't followed him, then. Hopefully the dark mist had caught one or both of them in full. He groaned and turned on his side. Now that whatever spell they'd cast on him was gone, he was left with a sharp knife's edge over most of his arms and face, as if he'd been cut and the wounds exposed to air. At least he had fallen in the dark, he thought. 

Outside, the Epoch came to a halt in front of the Sun Cave in time for everyone inside to see the two figures standing on top of the cave swallowed in a dark, roiling mist. Slash was already down on one leg, the other gouged and bleeding, and was thus out of the mist's range. Flea tried to dodge, but it ran past his face and hands, scalding them like hot acid. He screamed and stumbled backwards.

"Looks like Magus has 'em," Lucca said.

"I fear not," Frog said, leaning forward over her shoulder. "Why doth he not press his attack?"

Flea stopped flailing as the burning ceased, moving slowly so as not to pull the mangled skin. He froze when he saw the Epoch hovering not far away, but after a moment's thought grabbed a bag from the ground and put one arm around Slash, lifting them both into the sky. This time instead of flying, they simply vanished.

"Damn," she muttered. "Hold on, guys, I'm landing."

Smoother than he expected, Frog still held his breath until the craft landed on the beach and the top slid back. He watched how Marle unbuckled her safety straps and did likewise, hopping over their heads to escape the ship. Though they had arrived safely, he was certain his stomach was still a few miles behind him.

Frog went ahead inside, coming to a stop at the ray of light. The scythe was here, blood staining the long edge. "Magus?" he called. "Art thou here?"

"More or less." 

The shadows made him hard to spot, but Frog eventually noticed the wizard sitting against the rock wall, shoulders slumped. His hands hung limp in front of him, showing Frog how hurt they were despite being covered in gloves, and as the knight stepped closer, he spotted the long welts across Magus' throat and face. On his too white skin, they stood out like whip marks.

"Once again I must needs bring thee back from death," Frog said. "This is becoming a habit, wizard."

"Hardly dead," Magus said, standing before Frog could do anything. "And I don't need your help."

As he spoke, the welts faded and disappeared and he stood with only a slight wince. 

"Ah, thou hast healing draughts with thee." 

"Magus," Lucca said as the others ran in. "What happened? Why did you let them get away?"

"'Let them'?" he asked, looking down at her. " No 'let' about it. Little bastards had a surprise waiting for me."

"Are you hurt--?" Marle started to ask, but he waved her off.

"I'm well enough." He watched as Lucca knelt by the ground in the circle of sunlight. "They took the stone."

She nodded and stood up. "Doesn't look like they had time to cast any spells in here, though," she said, pulling her goggles on top of her helmet. "Maybe it's a good thing you followed so close and didn't give 'em a chance to do anything."

"I wasn't trying to stall them," he growled, "I was trying to kill them."

"If it's any consolation, you nearly did. Slash looked like he was holding his leg together and Flea...his head got caught in that mist of yours."

"Badly?"

"It looked bad where we were," Marle said, "like his skin was coming off."

"Good. He'll take at least a day or so to recover. Time enough to find them." He started towards the cave entrance.

"Wait," Lucca said, running in front of him. "You can't just go off on your own."

"Why not?"

Happy that he'd actually stopped to listen instead of walking around her, she crossed her arms as she spoke. "They didn't fly off like before. They just disappeared. You won't be able to find them."

"I'll find them," he said, unimpressed. "They cast one spell and I'll know exactly where they are."

"Which is why they won't use any spells," she said. "They'll probably just use a healing elixir. You'll just be wasting time waiting in the clouds."

"And you have a better idea?"

"Yes. We haven't seen you or Frog in a year and I, for one, wanna catch up a bit. And I'm tired, and you must be tired. We've been traipsing through the mountains all week, Frog said something about a battle and a dead dragon and none of that should have happened in our timestream."

"Sandorino was gone in this time," he reminded her. "That didn't change."

"You see, that's something we need to talk about," she said. "C'mon, dinner at my place?"

Marle sighed and shook her head. "Geez," she whispered to Crono, "next she'll be taking him to a movie."

He glanced at her and wished he'd gone on more of her shopping trips to the future with Lucca. Obviously they'd been doing things he had no idea about. What the heck was a movie?

Magus considered for a moment, then nodded once. "Fine. I'll meet you there."

"Or you could just ride with us," she said.

He opened his mouth to say something, then frowned and looked back at the three behind him. "How did you get four people here? I thought your contraption only fit three."

"Five now," she chirped, "with my new modifications and an all-new design." She led the way out, climbing into the open cockpit and plopping down in the driver's seat.

Without a word, Magus joined her in the front passenger seat, sweeping his cloak entirely inside. Lucca heard him whisper something and looked at him, wondering if he was talking to her. A flash of purple fur caught her eye and she smiled as Alfador curled up on Magus' lap. 

"You went back and got him," she said.

"Of course. I couldn't just leave him there."

Crono, Marle and Frog climbed in after them, the men pushed aside as Marle leaned forward between the two front seats to get a look at the purple cat. "Ooh, he's so cute" she squealed, daring so far as to rub behind Alfador's ears. Magus glared, but as long as his cat did nothing but purr, he didn't move. "Where were you keeping him? Your cloak?"

"My shadow."

"Strap in," Lucca said, a little surprised when Magus managed his safety belt easily. "Have you been to the future?"

He nodded once. "A waste of time. The archives were useless."

"Archives...?" she asked, revving the engines and bring the Epoch into the air. "But there are so many other things there. The movies, the malls, the huge parks and--"

"I have no use for them." As the Epoch turned, it faced the setting sun and the glare over the ocean, blinding him. He scowled and drew his hood low over his face.

Lucca took that as her cue to stop asking questions. She slipped the Epoch's engines into the next gear, adjusted their altitude and accelerated until the water turned into a blur beneath them, flying towards the horizon.

*~*

TBC...


	4. Dinner and Some Science

****

Part 4

Inside Guardia castle, Lucca sat with her arms crossed and a scowl. "I still don't see why we couldn't go to my house."

Beside her, Marle sighed and leaned back in her chair, watching Crono and Frog cajole the cook into preparing a large course for five people well after the regular meal time. "Your place doesn't have enough room for two guests, and unless you want your parents to meet the evil wizard from the Mystic Wars..."

"They've seen him before," Lucca said, but she glanced at Magus, who sat at the end of the table, leaning back in his chair with his boots on the table and with Alfador on his lap. He grinned, baring his fangs at her.

"Okay, maybe not," she said.

The guard stationed in the corner of the kitchen spotted Magus' teeth and edged his hand closer to his sword. Marle spotted his movement and waved him down, forcing a smile. Once she was sure the guard was calm again, she glared at the wizard.

"Will you quit scaring the guard?" she whispered. "I don't wanna have to explain to daddy why I'm bringing strange fanged men into the castle."

He ran one gloved hand over Alfador's fur, rubbing the back of his head as his purring grew louder. "If your guards are terrified of a man petting a cat, you have more problems than explanations to your father."

Before Marle could answer, Crono and Frog sat down at the table.

"Thy cook is quite..." Frog searched for a polite term, "...spirited, but she hath agreed to fix dinner for us." He glanced at Magus. "And she hath promised a dish for thy cat as well."

Magus looked at him, then back at Marle. "And how do you know it's not him that has your guards on edge? Are frog knights common now?"

"Frog's polite and chivalrous," Marle said. "They all respect him."

"Hath our dark mage been frighting thy guards?" Frog asked. "More than usual?"

Lucca bolted down half the wine in her glass and leaned back in her chair. "It's the scythe. They've never seen anyone fight with one. They take one look and think he's the grim reaper."

"You're right, though," Marle said to him. "All you've done is pet your cat. They shouldn't be so jumpy."

"Tis a common superstition that sorcerers have familiar spirits," Frog said. "When didst thou retrieve thy cat? Thou showed little interest in it before."

"Twelve thousand b.c., eleven thousand four hundred years ago, or one year and three days." Magus rubbed under Alfador's chin, which made the cat turn over so he could reach his stomach. "I wasn't about to bring him into the fight with Lavos."

He glanced at the guard again and raised his hand. The guard tensed and went for his sword, but Magus only rubbed his pet's tummy and smirked at the guard. Frog shook his head with a laugh.

"At least these guards shall not be startled into drawing sword upon a dark figure in the archives."

"What?" Marle asked.

"That reminds me," Magus said, looking at the princess. "After Flea and Slash are killed, I'll need to look through your archives. Hopefully they're in better condition than four hundred years ago."

"Well--"

"Some of them are," Lucca said, cutting off Marle's reply. "I've been trying out a new technique for preserving records by putting the information on microfiche."

"Little fish?" Frog asked.

"No, it's like tape," Lucca said, "it gets shrunk down and put on tape so that when you shine light through it, the image is projected on a screen and magnified. Hand manipulation of the scrolling wheel processes the image for greater control."

Frog and Crono gave Marle blank stares, but she simply shrugged. "Don't ask me, she's the only one who knows what any of that means."

"How do you compensate for decay and age?" Magus asked.

"By application of a few preservative coatings," Lucca said, leaning forward, her eyes lighting up as she found someone she could go into detail with someone other than her father. "I practiced on the terminal unused space near the end of the older scrolls and books for my initial attempts."

"And there was no degradation?" He put his boots down on the floor and sat up straight, leaning closer.

"The pages did disintegrate after several hours, but that was due more to human handling than the preservatives. The initial preservative solutions blurred the ink into one large blot after a few hours, but subsequent solutions are far more protective, though the paper becomes brittle after two days."

"Blurring on the tape?"

"Nonexistent. In fact, I had to clear up some of the images after processing since the writing on the opposite side of the paper was also bleeding into the main image. That was only with the thinnest, most worn paper."

On the other side of the table, Frog and Crono looked at Marle again. She sighed and picked up her fork and spoon and made them do a little dance across the table. "Find something to do," she said, "she can go on like this for hours."

Cradling Alfador in his arms, Magus turned in his seat so he could lean sideways against the table, making it easier to watch her. "Possible magnification?"

"Three hundred percent, usually." She pulled the candle on the table closer so she could see him a little better. "I have them on vertical scrolls to maximize space since horizontal's too limiting. Almost half the oldest texts are done, the diaries and histories. I don't want to wade into the poetry yet."

"Don't bother," he said. "It's mostly bad love sonnets from one royal member to another, and a few ballads of note."

"Thou readst bad poetry?" Frog asked, chuckling.

"I had to be sure there was nothing important in them," Magus said. "I couldn't have been more right."

"Tis gratifying to know thou suffered some."

"As did the bards," Magus said and his eyes darkened, "whenever I met them."

"You met the bards?" Marle asked, her eyes widening. "Did you meet Delavue? He put some of King Cassio's best love ballads to song, but the sheet music was lost."

"Of course it was," Magus said, "I went to a lot of trouble to burn every copy I ran across."

"You burned them?" she cried. "But it was said to be heavenly!"

He waved one hand dismissively. "Of course, when no one remembers it. It sounded like lyre strings being snapped."

"Queen Velesia said it was gorgeous."

"She was a love-struck idiot," Magus said. "You forget, I read her diary."

Dinner being served spared Frog from defending the dead queen's honor. Hypermeals and salads and such were distributed, as was a small dish of cream and fish for the cat. As he'd done before on their journeys, Magus didn't eat, but the cook set a carafe of what looked like red wine in front of him. Magus glanced at Frog, who nodded once and didn't say anything. A sip told him it was blood, probably runoff from the slaughter room, but if it wasn't fresh, it was still edible and, even better, not poisoned. Heaven knew what Frog had said to convince the cook to serve it. He drank deep and finished it off, running the back of his glove of his mouth. Years had passed since he'd eaten at a royal table and his manners had always been poor.

Dinner passed too quickly for Frog. Although he was eager to discuss matters long into the night, Marle's yawns and his sense of honor allowed him to merely ask if they might bed in the castle for the night.

"And if thou wilt be so kind as to give us separate rooms," he added, "mine gratitude shall know no bounds."

"Sure," Marle said. "There are plenty of spare rooms downstairs. If you don't mind sleeping close to the soldiers quarters."

"'Tis a second home to me."

"If you wake up early enough," Lucca said to Magus, "I can give you a quick look around the archives. You'll at least see what's changed and been added." She crossed her arms and looked down, deep in thought. "Actually, it'd be a good idea for all of us to go down there. We can find out why your battle wasn't mentioned and what the official reason is for Sandorino's disappearance."

"Then we'll meet in the morning, downstairs," Marle said, standing up. As if dismissing a royal banquet, she ended the conversation and offered her arm to Crono, who escorted her out.

On the other side of the table, Magus and Lucca gave a simultaneous snort. "She's getting worse every day," Lucca said. "A few more years, and I might not be able to stand her royal highness."

"Surely thou jest," Frog said, also standing. "She seemed as much the warrior princess this morning."

"She has her moments," Lucca said. She waved as he left the room, heading down the hall to the guest quarters, but made no move to get up and head home. Instead she poured another glass of wine for herself and downed half of it in one go.

"Drinking heavily now?" Magus asked. He watched the cook's assistant come and clear off the table, but the man left the bottle of wine and shied away from the girl. "I think he's afraid of you."  
She turned the glass in her hand, regarding the wine. "Just turning into a temperamental genius, that's all. I blew up one of the rooms when I got angry. All the guards treat me like a walking biohazard. You guys and my parents are the only ones who aren't afraid of me anymore."

As much as he disliked being one of "you guys," Magus held up his blood carafe. "A toast, then, to being terrifying monsters."

She returned the salute and finished the wine while he emptied the last few remaining drops. Lucca set her glass down and leaned back in her chair. "We're changing, but they don't even see it," she said softly, adjusting her glasses before they slid off. "Marle still fights, but she's gotten a taste of political power and she likes it. Crono's less her champion and more of a bodyguard, though I'm sure he takes real good care of her." Not bothering with the glass, she grabbed the bottle and tipped it back. "Real good care."

"They're married?" he asked.

"Oh, that's gonna be the event of the year," she said. "It'll be so huge and they're rebuilding the north cathedral just for that. Everyone who's anyone will be there, and I'm the maid of honor, you know." She groaned and took another drink.

"I'll be sure to be long gone then," he said.

"I might disappear to the end of time myself," she said. She looked up at him, completely sober despite all she'd drank. "Everything changes, doesn't it?"

"Everything," he said. "Welcome to adulthood."

She stared at him for a minute, then finished off the bottle. "Growing up sucks." She stood up, wobbled a little, and stretched, groaning as she pulled wear muscles. "I was walking all damn day. Listen, I know I said early, but don't wake me up too early. When I'm hung over, flammable things start smoking." Not waiting for his reply, she turned and left, waving her hand vaguely as she went.

There was no reason to stay in the dinning room. Magus disappeared from his chair, cat and all, leaving a confused guard glancing wildly around. He reappeared outside the castle doors and chose the nearest tree. A bed would have been better, but the guards in this era barely knew him and he didn't want to wake up surrounded with a dozen swords going through him. The tree was acceptable.

He climbed into the branches and leaned against the thickest, curling into the crook at the top of the trunk. His cape kept the wind off his back and Alfador lay against his chest, already asleep. For awhile, though, Magus stared at the stars between the branches, inordinately bright with no moon in the sky. They swirled in the darkness like the trail of an ice spell, white and sparkling.

"This is just a detour," he whispered. "I'll finish with this, and then continue to look for you. I know you're out there somewhere."

In truth, he was starting to suspect where she was, or rather what had happened in the Black Omen long ago. Twelve thousand b.c., eleven thousand four hundred years ago, or one year and three days. After all his work, it seemed like he'd been searching for that long. He touched the amulet she'd given him as protection. It had seen him through his childhood, through Lavos. Now it was what sustained him. Proof she'd existed at all. Sometimes she seemed like a dream.

And that was what he saw when he fell asleep in the branches. Her hand, holding out the amulet as it spun in the air, reflecting his own face back at him.

Cool morning air woke him while the sky was still grey. He pulled his cloak closer and held Alfador in his hands, shielding him from the wind. Stifling a yawn, he sat up and looked around. The woods were still empty, save for two guards standing in front of the castle. Bird song, absent the day before, now filled the trees, pricking up Alfador's ears.

Though he still felt tired, there was no use in trying to go back to sleep. He dropped out of the tree, going to one knee as he landed. As he stood up, the guards gasped and took a step back, looking at him as if he was a demon. He walked towards them, holding his cat in one arm, and when one of them raised a hand to stop him, he disappeared.

When he reappeared next to the castle's main stairs, he heard the guards shouting in a panic. Before any others could arrive, he disappeared again, this time landing in the archives. He pressed himself into a dark corner as the treasury guards ran by, then walked among the chests and vaults to the last room. The rainbow shell provided all the light in the room, illuminating the shelves of old books and the metal contraption Lucca had built, out of place against the stone walls.

He sat in the chair she used and flipped the switch on the side of the casing. Light shone done from the overhead box, projecting the image of the scroll she'd last read. Neat handwriting fell on the white surface before him, and he turned the handle of the scroll to move it forward. The writing moved smoothly before him, and Alfador tried to put his paw on the black lines as they rolled past. He turned the handle faster until he reached the beginning and started to read. It was nothing but granary statistics for several decades, so he slipped the scroll out of the rollers and turned to see what else Lucca had converted.

Criminal trials, census records, religious documents, the official archive of royal confessions...he arched one eyebrow but kept looking, wondering if Marle knew what the smartest girl in the kingdom was looking at. For a princess who regularly skipped classes, he doubted it.

The true and ƒ trange hiƒ torie of the murder of King Guardia XXII. The title passed quickly as he flipped through the list, but he halted and picked it out. He set it in place and slowly rolled it forward, fighting with the poor handwriting.

__

In the year 600 after our lord, the war with ne foul Maguƒ was wone, in which the myƒ tic army did flee before the righteouƒ might of our armie and the heroic ƒ kill of the myƒ sterious warrior Crono and hiƒ retainerƒ . Nay an year had paƒ ƒ ed yet the enemie gave an final blow, moƒ t cowardlie and crewl, and murdered our most deare king in the nyght, killed by the foul wisard, still devious tho much weakened, and a lowlie toadie ne in his servise. Onlie with the honor and courage of our armie and hande of ye Divine Providence was queene and countrie preserved...1

Magus broke off and sighed. Old writing was difficult at best, and the formal literature even worse. So this was what Frog did for ten years in the swamps, he decided, read horrendous histories and pick up the bad dialect. Hopefully the green knight didn't know any of Delavue's ballads or else he'd have to reconsider killing him.

He glanced back at the illuminated text. So this was why no one here knew of their final battle with the mystics. They'd simply been rewritten out of history, the queen's champion and the comrade against Lavos conveniently written out of time. Well, not entirely, he thought. He'd always been the evil wizard Magus, but then Frog was converted just as radically. He knew the medieval castle had been infested with gossip and conspiracy theories, and this only proved how much the people believed that mystics were everywhere, hiding under their beds and ready to slaughter them as soon as the lights went out. No doubt if he read further, he'd see how he and Frog slaughtered Sandorino's peasants and razed the houses on a whim, and of their final demise alongside their wounded army in the snow cave.

Pressing on, he continued through the history, managing as quickly as he did because of his long practice of deciphering Frog in his more incomprehensible moments. There was no mention of the queen remarrying, although it did make note of a daughter and the traditional passage of Schala's necklace. An earthquake here, an eclipse there. Nothing else of note appeared even to the end of the scroll, but he figured that if history had been cleaned up, nothing interesting would show.

Footsteps started down the stairs, moving slowly through the treasury. Of course. In any era, Guardia's troops had the knack for coming in just as his research grew interesting. He turned off the microfiche, scooping Alfador up in one hand as he stood, waiting for the guards to come closer. No matter. Lucca would better know where to look for references to the pendant, and for now, there was time enough for a little fun.

More for show than their medieval counterparts, these guards relied on their combined strength rather than their thin rapiers. Most of them didn't even bother to carry swords. From his vantage point in a dark corner, he watched a whole troop move along the hall, the officers in back nudging the regulars forward. They'd probably checked every other room in the castle, Magus thought, before coming down to the basement treasury. With a wave of his hand, he sent a breeze that blew out the torches.

Everyone froze. The only light came from the rainbow shell several dozen yards ahead, only a soft glow from where they were. Boots shuffled on the stone floor before a few whispered orders and threats drove the front row ahead again.

The torches suddenly burst into purple flames, two at a time down to the end of the hall where Magus stood, a silhouette with a gleaming scythe. His cape billowed behind him, and he stood still as the guards stared and backed up towards the stairs. With a low laugh, Magus ignited a fireball in one hand and threw it down the hall, guiding it down to explode at their feet.

There were cries of "demon," "a devil" and "retreat," mixed with random shouts and the clang of dropped swords as they ran for the stairs, tripping over each other. A few more explosions at their back and the wizard's laughter as he walked towards them, sent the stragglers up and out of sight.

The torches turned back to their normal color, the wind died down and Magus was left with an amused smile. He put away his scythe and leaned against the wall, gently rubbing Alfador's ears. He didn't have to wait long. Panicked shouts and commands echoed from the main hall, and soon Frog's voice was added to the mix. The shouting quieted, and then Frog hopped down the stairs, a small contingent of the bravest guards following several feet after.

Knowing who the "demon" was, Frog looked at the guards and then at Magus. "Is this a hobby of thine? See how many guards thou canst have rattling in their armor?"

"These ones don't have armor," Magus said, unable to quash his smile. "Just a bit of fun. Honestly, I didn't even turn them in anything this time."

"Perchance only because thou hadst not enough transformation spells to go around," Frog said. "Thy fun may get thee killed some day."

"Between alien parasites and mystic assassins, I'll take my chances." He walked by him, passing the guards as they parted to let him go. "I take it everyone is up?"

"Aye, since thy..." Frog's voice trailed off as he realized Magus had done and he raced up the stairs after him. "Thou impatient wizard! Couldst thou not wait another hour to rouse us?"

"We have work to do," Magus said over his shoulder. He looked back at the main hall and sighed with displeasure. "Damn, she's not here yet. I'll have to drag four eyes back here."

A loud "ahem" made him turn around. Lucca had a glass of orange juice in one hand, her other propping up her hat on ruffled hair. "Four eyes wanted breakfast first. And unless you want your cape to go up in a blaze of glory, don't start on me until after the headache goes away." She bolted the rest of her juice and handed it to the closest guard. "You've already seen the archive?"

He shook his head once. "I've only read one scroll, but it explained why there was no mention of a battle and why Sandorino disappeared."

Lucca grinned. "Good, we can start with that. By the way, how'd you like the microfiche?"

"Better than normal scrolls and much better than the future machines that crash every five minutes. Your descendents will royally screw up all your work."

She waved his words away. "A genius' lot in life. Oh look, speaking of royalty..."

While Frog gasped at her phrasing, Magus turned and spotted Marle and Crono coming out of the throne room. Even this early, her hair was neatly done and her crossbow polished and armed, and Crono...he always looked like a birds nest, so he didn't count. Marle stopped on the landing and looked around. With no enemy in sight, she lowered her bow and put one hand on her hip.

"Either Magus scared someone," she said, "or Lucca blew something up. What happened?"

Lucca and Frog both pointed at Magus. He didn't offer any explanation, so Frog gave one.

"Our wizard merely hath developed a love of terrifying guards," he said. "Often simply with his presence."

Marle opened her mouth to reply, but a shout from inside the throne room made her sigh and turn around. "It's all right, daddy! It was just...no, hold on, I'll be right there." She slung her crossbow into its shoulder holster and went back into the throne room, Crono on her heels.

"She never casts spells anymore," Lucca said softly. "She could do more damage with her weakest ice attacks but she sticks to that crossbow."

"What of Crono?" Frog asked,, standing beside her. "His magicks were strongest of us all. In proportion," he added as Magus glared.

"Him either. I mean, they don't have to cast spells, there are no enemies strong enough to warrant it, but still..." She crossed her arms and looked down. "It makes me the only one who uses it now."

"Scorching suitors?" Magus asked. Not bothering to wait for Marle or Crono, he turned to the stairs and headed back to the archive. Frog and Lucca walked beside him.

"I wish," she laughed. "It's easier to use my fire than search for a blowtorch or a soldering iron. I've been practicing a lot, forging with fire and raw iron."

"And blowing up parts of the castle?"

"That wasn't my fault," she said. "I was working on a new windmill design and my blades were magnesium, and Marle spilled ice cream on one of my blueprints and I was having a bad day anyway." She sighed and her shoulders slumped. "Doesn't take much to set off magnesium, and I had tons of it lying around."

"Forgive my asking," Frog said, "but why shouldst Guardia require windmills? I'd thought thou hadst other means of harvesting grain."

"Not for grain," she said. They reached the main archive room and sat down. Frog took out the Masamune and began polishing it, as he could follow only pieces of their conversation. He'd never traveled to the future they'd created, and he'd never studied magick or the science behind it while these two lived in constant study, be it electrical or arcane.

Lucca continued. "I need it for energy. Unless I wanna get zapped by lightning again and again, I have to rely on wind turbines to fill my batteries."

"Crono--" Magus started.

"--is busy," she said. "If I could do it myself, I would, but fire is essentially a destructive energy, consuming and transforming matter before I can harness the catalytic burst."

A soft mew prompted Magus to set Alfador down so he could examine the rainbow shell, rising up on his hind legs to see inside the glittering inner twists. As he watched his cat, Magus only paid half a mind as he asked, "don't they use steam in the future?"

About to answer, Lucca froze as her eyes widened to nearly the size of her glasses. "Oh my God, I hadn't even...I was so caught up in advanced alternate energy I totally forgot about intermediate sources." She grabbed one of the ancient scrolls next to her seat and unfurled it on the table, spreading out the blank space near the end and starting to sketch long lines and blocks. "A boiler...constant energy withdrawal...it'd have to be somewhere outside for safety...and if I increased the size by...results in an exponential increase of output..." She smacked her pen down on the desk and turned, grinning.

"That'll teach me to focus exclusively on robotics," she said. She flung herself at Magus, wrapping him in a tight hug and missing how he froze. "Thank you!"

A moment later she let go and grabbed her sketched schematics, running out of the basement, presumably home to show her father the designs. In the archive, Magus let out a breath and forced his body to relax. He heard a muffled snicker and glared at Frog. "Not a word," he hissed.

In his seat, Frog chuckled and kept polishing the Masamune. "Wizard, thou shouldst have seen thy face..."

Magus crossed his arms and looked away. "You want to see something interesting, take a look at the scroll in the machine."

Frog gave him a look, then put away his sword and went to the microfiche. It took him awhile to find the light switch and figure out how to move the scroll, but after a minute he was reading quickly. "Aye...aye, 'tis as I imagined 'twould be. Declared traitor, 'tis most ironic. And..." He stopped and re-read a sentence. "Leene hast a daughter?"

"You knew she had to have one," Magus said.

"But...with no mention of a husband..."

"Looks like your queens aren't as honorable as you thought."

There was no use arguing with him. Frog sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Honor aside, it makes no sense politically. A bastard heir wouldst never be recognized, a fight for the throne would doubtless have occurred."

"Considering what we know your scribes left out, I doubt they're all too truthful about anything else."

"Aye, 'twill have to wait 'till I canst return," Frog said as he stood.

"What will have to wait?"

Magus and Frog glanced down the hall as Marle and Crono walked towards them, weapons on their backs. Marle sat down at the microfiche, and since there were no chairs left, Crono sat on one of the chests.

"Wow, this is Lucca's machine?" Marle asked, scanning the illuminated writing. "What are you read--?" She stopped and looked over the passage again, then read further. When she was done, she looked at both of them. "What's it mean that you two killed the king?"

"'Tis a lie," Frog said quickly, "'twas during a battle with the mystic army. A yakra demon snuck through our defenses and attacked the queen. The king defended her unto his death before I arrived and slaughtered the yakra."

"Oh..." she glanced back at the scroll. "Why didn't they mention the battle then?"

"And admit they were saved by the evil wizard and his toadie?" Magus asked. "Besides, we left in something of a scandal."

"Scandal?"

"I'm back--" Lucca said, coming in. She glanced around at them. "What'd I miss?"

"Frog's a traitor and an assassin," Magus said.

Frog glared. "That's not--"

Marle turned from the machine and stared at Lucca. "We were going over the changes in history. Why did you run off? You know we need you here."

"I know that, and I didn't just run off! I had schematics for a steam engine and I had to--" she shook her head. "Never mind, you wouldn't understand anyway. And yes, if you're talking about scroll 601-12, I already know about the assassination."

"Yakra demon," Frog said. "And 'twas not an assassination, 'twas a battle we won."

Crono, meanwhile, stood up and checked the scroll. Sure enough, there on the side was the serial number. He blinked and pointed at it. Lucca noticed his look and shrugged.

"December 601 A.D., that's all." She glanced back at Magus and Frog. "And since you didn't kill the king, I assume you didn't destroy Sandorino either."

"Flea and Slash," Magus said. "And a huge dragon."

"Dragon?" Marle asked.

"'Tis dead now."

"Again."

"Wait a minute," Lucca said before Marle could ask another question. She knelt in front of her rolled tapes and sorted through them, looking for one in particular. "If most of the mystics died in that attack, and then again after the purge at Sandorino...aha!" She pulled out the tape and slipped it into the machine. "I always thought this was weird. Look, in this era, everyone was paranoid about mystics coming to kill them, so there was a big push to eradicate all mystics."

"Aye, during the war 'twas almost accomplished."

"Yes, for awhile there are no sightings of mystics, even when the troops search the forests and mountains. But look here," she said, pointing at one paragraph. "Ten years later, there's a report that half of Porre's citizens have suddenly disappeared."

Marle nodded. "Yeah, and that there were a bunch of mystics in the forest who'd done it. They never caught many of them, though, and they started to spread again. Lucca, that's basic history."

Magus stood up and looked over Lucca's shoulder. "You're missing the point. If nearly every mystic had been killed, there wouldn't have been enough to mass that kind of attack. It doesn't make sense." He glanced at her. "I wouldn't do it. And there's no one besides me who might except for our two wayward mystics."

"Whoa whoa whoa," Marle said. "You're saying Flea and Slash did this? Just on a couple odd circumstances?"

"Not odd," Lucca said, "if you simply look at the facts. There are no more mystics, but then a major attack happens. We have two mystics who are travelling through time gathering a specific type of transformative energy and a receptacle to hold it."

"Lucca, are there any pictures of what these mystics looked like?"

"Yeah, scroll down."

Magus did so, and a woodcut appeared on the table. They all crowded around to look. Although they'd faced hundreds of different types of mystics before, the ones pictured were all the same, nagas with blue skin and pointed ears and fangs. The resemblance to Magus was strong, save for the snake-like tails and webbed hands.

"Humans, once," he whispered. "Changed quickly, rather than over time."

"Wait..." Marle paled. "Oh my God, you're saying the mystics in the forest...were the Porre citizens?"

Lucca adjusted her glasses and nodded. "Most likely."

"There aren't any other instances of this?" Magus asked suddenly. "No other disappearances on that scale?"

"None that I saw, and I've done most of the history collection now. Why?"

"The sun stone holds a lot more than what was used there, right?" When she nodded, he went on. "Then that was only a test run." He stood straight and stared at them. "I've practiced spells on humans before. You always use a small sample before casting the real spell. They're planning something bigger. Why bother with time travel and braving our reaction if they're only going to turn one town?"

"But nothing hast happened as of yet," Frog said.

Marle nodded slowly. "Which means they're going to do it sometime in the future. It could happen tomorrow or a hundred years from now."

"If so," Frog said, "then we cannot tell when to look."

"But we can find out," Lucca said. She switched off the machine and put the scroll away. "It's our future, but probably Robo's past. If we go to the future, maybe their archives will have some clues."

"Then let's go," Magus said. He went to the rainbow shell and reached inside, pulling Alfador out. With his cat tucked in his arms, he walked down the hall without waiting. Crono, Marle and Lucca immediately ran after him, but Frog paused for a moment as he slipped his Masamune, now polished to a reflective sheen, back in its scabbard. He glanced at the scroll Lucca had put away, recalling the picture of the transformed mystics.

Transformed quickly, he'd said, rather than over time. Frog remembered what Magus had looked like as a child, transformed by magick but still human. Mystics didn't all live underground or roam only at night. Did living with mystics somehow change humans on an innate level?

"Frog," Lucca called from the other end of the hall. "Come on!"

"On my way." He hopped after her, following them out to the Epoch.

TBC...


	5. A Bit of Blood at Cronopolis

****

Part 5

The future was not what Frog had imagined. After glimpses of Robo's time, dark and covered in polluted fog, the world before him as he stepped out of the Epoch was nature exploded. More verdant Crono's world, trees as thick as houses clustered so tightly that sunlight trickled through the leaves and left the ground in a dim gloom. Centuries worth of fallen leaves crunched as the ship landed in one of the few clearings and the small group disembarked, gathering at the side of the Epoch.

"How changed," Frog said, glancing at the trees. "The air seems as sweet as Crono's age."

"Cleaner," Lucca said, pulling out a camouflage netting and tossing it over her ship. "When we get to Cronopolis, you'll see the purifier towers that scrub the air."

"Is't far?" Frog asked. "I didst not see any city from the sky."

Lucca tugged the netting into place and stood back, wiping the dust from her hands. "Not too far. There's a road to the main gate half a mile north. I just didn't want them to spot the Epoch."

They started walking through the forest, Lucca, Magus and Frog in front and Marle and Crono bringing up the rear. Marle's voice was a steady whisper behind them as she explained aspects of the future to Crono. Magus tuned out her chatter and inclined his head towards Lucca.

"You're going to enter by the main gate?" he asked.

"Uh-huh. It's easier than sneaking in and there's only a small post--" A smile spread over her face as a thought struck her. "You're worried about the checkpoint, aren't you?"

Magus straightened and stared back at the path. "Hardly."

Beside them, Frog chuckled. "What, is it thy goal to antagonize every army in every era?"

Scowling, Magus drew his cloak closer and didn't answer.

After a few minutes of walking they came to the road, made of cobblestones with grass and glowers poking up between the cracks, so overgrown that Frog would have missed it if the hadn't pointed it out. The trees extended over the road, and as they walked on they spotted gleaming white walls through the leaves, patches of the city in bits and pieces.

The trees suddenly broke wide and Cronopolis rose before them. Five story walls surrounded the city, and within them towers spiraled up toward the clouds, as white as polished ivory. A flock of birds wheeled from one spire to another like the wind made tangible. And at the very bottom of the walls the path turned into a bridge over a deep chasm, ending at two giant doors flung wide and several guards milling at their posts. Instead of swords, sleek pistols hung at their hip.

Only as they approached the gate did Lucca notice Magus was gone. She glanced around for a swirl of a cloak behind a tree or a flash or blue hair in a shadow. Wherever he was, he was well-hidden. The lieutenant stepped forward and set his hand on his pistol, just as routine.

"Stand and state your business," he said.

"Four travelers, hoping to use the city's public archives," Lucca said. "Probably just a day or two."

"And where will you be staying?"

"With Prometheus in tower Serenitatis," she said, and pulled from a pocket a gold disc no larger than her palm. She held it up for him to see. An audible gasp went up from the guards. The lieutenant took another look at her, recognizing her more from the thick glasses than her face. "Lucca Ashtear," he said in an almost reverential tone. "I'd heard you'd mastered time travel, but I'd dismissed it as a rumor. It's truly an honor to meet you."

"Oh, I can't take all the credit for that," she started.

"Prometheus told us all about you," one of the privates said. "The genius who mastered robotics and gate technology despite living in a primitive age."

Lucca grinned and stood straight. Frog watched with interest as a change came over her, the respect infusing her with confidence that gradually became manic as it touched her eyes. The shy genius disappeared, leaving behind the scientist cackling in glee at her own inventions. Behind them, Marle sighed and leaned against Crono, waiting for Lucca to remember their reason for coming.

While the soldiers showered her with adoration, though, Frog noticed a shadow moving beneath the bridge. Without making a big show of it, he glanced at it and repressed a laugh as he watched Magus edge along a narrow ledge just under the guard post. The chasm drove the wind faster, and the wizard's cloak billowed behind him while his hair flew in his eyes. Frog could imagine the curses Magus was uttering as he fought to get it out of his face while inching farther beneath the bridge. If his transportation spell had a limited range, no doubt he wanted to be as close as possible before disappearing.

Finally in position, Magus took a deep breath and stepped off the ledge. Before he fell far, he vanished. Frog shook his head slightly. The wizard must believe the guards would recognize him, and he grinned in anticipation of teasing the reason out of him.

Once Lucca led them in at last, Frog looked around for their wizard and found him sulking in a corner, hood drawn low over his face. He left Lucca for a minute and walked over, ignoring the looks he received as usual and leaning against the wall beside him, hands resting on his hilt.

"Thy transgression must have been quite a show for thou to keep out of sight."

Magus snorted and glanced around the street for any roaming patrols. All he saw were walls and small shops like mouse holes, and the crowds of people farther down the street. "More trouble than they're worth." He glared at Lucca, who was waving to the gate guards. "They stroke her ego enough?"

"Thou'rt one to speak of egos," Frog said. "Besides, it seems harmless enough. She receiveth little recognition in her own time."

"Well, I'm not going to wait while she laps up praise like some starving dog," Magus said. "I'll see what I can find in the archives myself."

Before Frog could answer, Magus disappeared again. The knight shook his head and headed back to the group. "Protest all thou likest," he whispered to himself, "thou art willing to work in a team and bend thy impatience to serve others, as obnoxious as thou act regardless."

If he'd heard Frog speak, Magus might have considered another dig about Queen Leene. The sunlight glaring off the white towers put him in an even worse mood. He reappeared just around the corner and started walking toward the castle, now the tallest conglomeration of spires in the city. He passed store windows full of various goods, shelves of fresh baked bread, colorfully wrapped candies, spinning crystals, toys that walked when a key was turned, silk clothes and neon lights of female lips and gracefully emptied wine glasses. His dark cloak stood out amidst the light and color. People parted before him, giving him easy passage through the crowded streets until he was only a few stores away from the castle gates.

If he was lucky, there wouldn't be a repeat of his last visit. Three teleportation spells, one right after the other, sent him first behind a tall oak near the gate, then inside the grand hall, and finally safely ensconced on the staircase that led to the archives. One of the guards inside the hall shivered in the breeze he'd brought with him, but no one said anything. Silently he swept down into the darkness, and the electric lights burned blue instead of white as he passed. The only difference between the castle of the past and future was the white facade of the walls. Alfador slipped out of his shadow and stayed at his heels, the two of them shadows in the bright archives.

A row of small screens stood against the wall, and he sat down at one of them, pressing the power button and waiting for the machine to come on. He'd preferred the microfiche Lucca had developed, quickly displayed and easily sorted, but he'd never seen anything like that in this archive. Everything humans made seemed designed to frustrate and annoy him. He growled as the screen finally glowed and blinked, showing that it was loading. When his cat jumped into his lap, he absently stroked its fur and let the familiar purring calm him.

Now came the interminable clicking of the mouse as he searched, examined and scrolled through electric scrolls. Long pages of small type zoomed by on the screen, and he winced at the screen's brightness. There was no way to dim it, though, since the buttons meant for that wouldn't work. His shoulder started to ache as he pushed the mouse around.

Sharp claws grazed his fingers and he found Alfador on the desk, batting at the mouse. He allowed himself a small smile and watched him dive and grab the plastic casing, kicking at it as he mewed. For a little while he forgot about the search and, after a quick glance even though he knew they were alone, played back, allowing nips and scratches as he wrestled his cat.

A hiss, like a foot sliding against the floor. It was faint, far across the room, but Magus had scooped Alfador back into his shadow and stood up before it faded. He looked around the room. During the centuries, the royal family had expanded the archives so that a hundred people could fit inside, and he'd only lit what he'd needed to spare his eyes the extra glare. Now he commanded each light to glow blue, the long tubes snapping on one after the other, driving out the darkness.

A whirlwind whipped up and rushed towards him, sending tables and computers flying as he leaped out of the way. He sent a lightning bolt throughout the room, destroying many of the screens but also dragging a screech out of his enemy. He turned towards the sound and spotted a pink and white figure in the corner. Strange. It wasn't Flea, but...he frowned. A human who'd been changed, then.

"You let them do that to you?" he asked.

"Small price to pay," came the reply. As it came into the light, Magus saw that though the figure was modeled after Flea, the skin was now obviously more red, the features harder. At its waist, its body formed scales and where legs had once been, a tail slithered across the tiled floor.

"Price?" Magus put one hand behind his back, ready to draw his scythe. "What did they promise you?"

"Eternity." The naga examined her clawed hand and hissed, a forked tongue tasting the air. "Instead of a few years of mortality."

"You don't know what you asked for," he said with a bitter laugh. "I bet you just woke up."

She stared at him and hissed louder, baring her fangs as they dripped green poison. Without another word, she stirred a whirlwind in the air and hurled it at him, tables cracking in half as it drove over them. All the fury of a tornado spun inside the miniature twister.

Drawing his scythe as he leaped, Magus dodged the wind and readied an ice spell, throwing it in her way as she tried to maneuver around the shelves and chairs. The spell caught the end of her tail and froze it solid, leaving broken ice behind as she slithered forward. She screamed and picked up a chair, aiming it at his head. It flew across the room and struck the wall behind him with such force that it splintered.

Claws up, fangs poised, she glanced wildly around the room, but during her attack he'd disappeared. She reared up as high as her tail would allow and turned in all directions, the only sound her own scales dragging on the floor.

And then the lights went out.

Her mystic eyes began to compensate faster than her human eyes ever could, but she was unused to seeing silhouettes and waited longer than she should have. When the lightning bolt crashed into her, the sudden light blinded her. It threw her against the wall where she slid several feet to the floor. The next bolt struck inches above her head, and she slithered towards the faint glow that she recognized as the door out. Once safely around the corner, she reared up again, one hand against her head, and sped to the stairs.

Panting for breath, Magus paused at the doorway and watched her struggle with the staircase, forced to pull herself up since her tail wouldn't cooperate. He dug through his armor until he found an ether, but it was only half full and a weak potion at that. Too many transportation spells and his earlier fun with Marle's guards had left him drained, and there wasn't much left in him. He drank it anyway and followed.

Squinting as she came into the light, the naga heard the yelling guards before she saw them. She skated around them by ear, and the heat of their pistol shots passed over her skin. Though she hated to head for the light, the main door was the only way out and it was still lowered. She slithered recklessly across, barreling by a blonde blur and then into the street.

Behind her, Magus raced past the guards, also dodging their bullets as they fired at him. He heard Frog and Lucca both tell them to stop and noticed Crono helping Marle back to her feet, but he passed them quickly and followed his prey into the street. People scattered screaming as the naga flung shop carts as if by magic and exploding the glass windows into the street. Flying shards slashed several bystanders and Magus pulled his cloak over his face, but not before his face received a few cuts. He hissed and sent a dark mist rushing after her.

With a sharp turn, she dodged the mist before she even knew it was there. She screamed as it missed her tail by inches and left a flower stand full of withered, wilted trash, and she spotted a stairway leading up one of the towers. She went up as fast as she could, shrieking as lightning bolts shattered the hanging plants along the railing. The staircase stopped on the second story but turn into a bridge to the next tower. Knowing he had to be right on her tail, she ducked into the first open door. She got as far as the railing that saved her from dropping to the next floor, but she couldn't see it yet. The light in here was even brighter than the sun, if that was possible, and it took several seconds for her eyes to adjust. One clawed hand on the railing, one slicing the air in case anyone came close, she bent forward and caught her breath.

Behind her, Magus halted at the entrance, one hand over his eyes. What a love of light humans had! By the time he could see clearly, the naga was already slithering down the walkway, now clear as humans pressed themselves against store windows. An indoors market? With several flights, he realized, spotting the open floor and more shops below. He didn't recognize half the things he saw, mostly electrical devices but some familiar things, furnishings, decorative knives and swords, all made by some other process than by hand, that was obvious.

Useless to him, anyway. He didn't see any ethers or healing potions offered and he was running low on energy. If he didn't stop her soon, he'd collapse and he did not want to be trapped in this city, or at any human's mercy. He vaulted over a collapsed stand full of shattered crystal vases and landed running. The glare off of the windows and mechanical things left him half-guessing his way, and he knocked over about as much as the naga did.

"Magus, where art thou!"

He faintly heard the cry and ignored it. Of course they'd be following, fat lot of good it did him. Let them follow the mess and the panicked cries. The naga was tearing through the eating area, scattering tables in her wake. Blinking lights advertised food shops in different colors, but he was more stunned by the smell of several types of food cooking together. Nauseated, both of them rushed out and down another corridor. Magus started to wonder how wide each tower was, let alone how tall.

No other option open, the naga grabbed the railing and pulled her tail up, then leaped into the air. She turned as she fell, sending as many whirlwinds as she could. Reaching the railing just the first wind did, Magus turned aside and let his cloak take the full brunt of the attack, ripping down the side. He stepped sideways and leaped the railing out of range of the next whirlwinds, sending a block of ice on top of her. She turned and hit the ground on her tail, already throwing herself forward, but the ice still flattened the end of her tail. Scales and internal tissues froze on contact, and with a scream and a spray of blood she wrenched herself free.

She didn't get far. Moving slowly now, she screamed again as he came around and grabbed her throat, slamming her against the nearest wall. She hissed and slashed at his face, and found her hand frozen solid.

"When are they going to do it?" he shouted. He held her several inches off the ground, her mangled tail dripping underneath her. She used her good hand to hold his arm and hold herself up. "Give me a year!"

"They never told me," she snarled, spitting a volley of poison.

He dodged it and squeezed her throat, baring his own fangs at her. "When were you made? Answer me--"

"Six...hundred...twelve..." she hissed.

"And put to sleep at the same time?" He tightened his grip not out of spite but to keep her up. His body trembled less with anger and more from fatigue, and her blood pooling on the ground excited his senses. "Who were you waiting for?"

"...any of you."

A light hand touched his arm, but he didn't look aside.

"Magus, put her down," Marle said, out of breath from running. Behind her, the others caught up. "We'll learn more if you don't kill--"

The naga spit poison again, nailing Marle's eyes. She screamed and scraped it away, stumbling into Crono's arms as she cast a healing spell on herself. Magus slammed the naga again into the wall, and this time blood poured out of the back of her head. Her eyes started to unfocus.

"Answer me and I will give you an easy death," he said softly, fangs still bared. "Where will it happen?"

Her head lolled forward and blood dripped out of her mouth. "...not here anymore...long ago..."

"A name," he said. "A king, a queen."

"...Vele...sia..." She gasped the word out, no longer able to breathe.

"Good," he whispered, and drew her close. Tilting her head to one side, he tore her throat open and drank freely the blood now gushing out of the severed artery. Much better. The fatigue melted away as he drank his fill. He heard the gasps of the modern people as they stared, but it was the scrape of the Masamune out of its sheathe that made him fling the body down and turn, thinking he'd have to fight Frog.

Instead he saw Frog holding the modern guards at bay with a water spell, the sword drawn mostly to bolster himself and keep them at arm's distance. Crono knelt on the floor with Marle in his arms, her eyes clear but stunned by the shock. And beside them, Lucca with one hand over her mouth, eyes wide in fright. Her glasses lay crooked on her face, her hair wild after chasing him. She suddenly looked very young, and he considered what he looked like, red eyes flashing over bloody fangs, blood soaking his gloves.

"What are you staring for?" he growled, dragging the back of a glove over his mouth to wipe away the few traces of blood. "You've always known what I am."

Mute, she nodded once, taking a deep breath to steady herself. Fixing her glasses, she stood straight and turned back into Lucca the great. "Prince Janus," she said in a loud voice, "what happened here?"

For a moment he wondered at the formal title, one he hadn't used in ages, then realized she was giving him an out in front of all the guards. He took a deep breath and drew himself to his full height, imposing even without his recent kill. "A mystic assassin in the archives," he said, "laying in wait to kill either you or me. I couldn't let it escape, could I?"

Frog glared at him over his shoulder, but held his tongue.

"I think we'd better speak to the king and queen about this," Lucca said. "Frog, it's all right, you can stand down. I don't think there are any more evil mystics about."

Not at all the reason he had drawn his blade, but he sheathed it again and let his spell dissipate. The guards likewise holstered their weapons. Lucca looked back at Magus. "The body?"

"Burn it."

Escorted out of the large market by both his fellow timetravellers and the castle guard, Magus noticed that they all walked in a broad row, talking up the entire street. There were no carriages on the streets, though, nor stands to get in their way, at least none left standing. Shattered glass, messes of exploded fruit and flowers and an occasional wounded person still lay in the street, with people gathered on the sidewalks watching as they walked by. Frog grimaced and opened his mouth.

"Not a word," Magus hissed. He looked down at Lucca, somewhat annoyed that he was still following a few inches behind her. "Where are we going?"

"The castle spire," she said. "I think we can talk the current monarchs into not having you executed, but these ones aren't as open and giving as the kings we've met before."

"Damn..." The castle was already in sight, no point in trying to vanish if there was a chance he could talk his way out of things first. Hell, he'd walked through Guardia castle without being attacked before. He pulled off his ripped cloak and began wiping his gloves clean.

In the grand hall, dozens of soldier surrounded them as they went up the staircase into the throne room. The king and queen sat in their thrones, blinking lights and buttons embedded in the arms of their seats. The king pushed one of these, closing the door behind them.

"The genius of the past," the chamberlain at the door announced, "Lucca the Great, with...um, entourage."

Lucca took a deep breath as she sized up the royalty. Looking quite similar to their ancestors, their narrowed eyes and upraised heads told her that not only were they angry, they were probably always angry. They couldn't be tyrants for the city to be so beautiful and bright, but it didn't bode well for errant trouble makers.

"What the hell happened?" the king demanded, looking at each of them in turn. He stopped at Magus, more human than most mystics but more mystic than most humans, and obviously cleaning up after a vicious fight. "You're the one who damaged my archives?"

"No, your majesty," Lucca cut in before Magus could. "The naga assassin caused that damage in its attempt to--"

"And where is that naga now?" he interrupted, still talking at Magus. "Dead, I hope, after all the trouble you caused. I saw you chasing after it. You caused nearly as much damage as it did, hurting innocent bystanders and destroying property--"

"Quite dead," Magus said, and everyone stared at him. Everyone but Frog, he knew that voice. Angry wizard was his companion's normal tone but on rare, formal, occasions Magus could act like a arrogant prince, and with this king, that seemed to be the best response. "Such a pathetic army you have if it can't safeguard your own castle, let alone kill one naga. But then I've had to clean up after other Guardia kings, so I can't say I'm surprised."

Stunned for the moment, almost amused, the king looked at his queen once as if to ask 'can you believe his nerve?' He looked back at the blue-skinned man in bloodied armor. "And who are you, who presumes to censure kings?"

Magus rolled up the ruined cloak and tossed it at the king's feet, blood splattering on the immaculate marble floor. "Prince Janus of Zeal, son of Queen Zeal, and a destroyer of Lavos." He tugged on one glove, tightening it so that it showed off the lines of his claws beneath the leather. "And you?"

"King Delavue XXVI," he said, not as amused as he'd been when Magus had been a commoner. "The Zeal Kingdom? I've never heard of it."

"The Zeal kingdom was destroyed by Lavos in your year 12000 b.c. Eternal summer in winter, it was an island kingdom floating in the sky."

"Preposterous," the queen said and laughed. "There are no generators strong enough to lift a kingdom, nor a plane broad enough."

"You put too much faith in your technology," Magus said. He held one hand out and created a ball of lightning crackling around itself. Its light overpowered the soft lamps in the room and sent shadows flickering wildly across the walls. Everyone but his companions drew back.

"We held our kingdom above the ice age beneath us," he said, "solely through magick." He regarded his little lightning sparking across his palm and reflecting in his eyes. It crackled in tight double helixes and coursed through his fingers, straining to leap away. So many years of casting spells, but he rarely looked at them anymore. He closed his fist and the lightning vanished. "Do you believe me, or should I open a black hole and prove it further?"

"I think that will do," the king said, sharing a look with his queen. "What business do you have in our kingdom?"

"Only a look at your archives," Magus said, "once they're repaired, in any case."

"We have to avert a terrible crime in the far past," Lucca said. "Two powerful mystics have put all of humanity at risk."

"And you?" the queen asked, motioning towards Magus and Frog. "Are you mystics yourselves?"

"No, we're not," Magus said, and did not elaborate.

The throne room fell silent as the king thought, all the while watching Magus. A light on his chair lit up and beeped, and he flipped a switch. He watched the screen that lit up for a moment, then leaned back in his seat and nodded once. "Very well. I've been informed that Prometheus himself is on his way from Geno Dome and will arrive in the morning. You will be shown to rooms you may stay in while you wait for repairs to effected. And Prince Janus...there is a doctor and full staff available if you require treatment. I noticed you were bleeding."

"Thank you but no," Magus said, unable to quelch a smile. "None of this blood is mine."

Everyone but the small group of time travelers grimaced. Eager to get out, Lucca made a quick box, followed by Crono and Frog. Magus walked behind them out of the throne room, but at the door the king called him back. Careful to keep an ear out for anyone sneaking up behind him, he stepped back inside and stood before the king, one hand on his hip.

"I require a true answer," Delavue said, "and you need not betray yourself in front of your comrades. You and the frog knight, are you mystics tamed to Lucca's hand?"

Magus shook his head once. "The frog is a human knight from 600 a.d. who I turned into his present shape. And I assure you, I am no mystic." He glanced around at the throne room full of humans of all normal skin colors, but nothing extraordinary. "But even if I was, do you think I would tell you? I noticed none in your city and none in your forest."

"You dare question our actions?" the queen said, sitting straight with her head tilted slightly. "Forgotten prince, if prince you truly are, you know nothing of our time."

"Your pardon, lady," Magus said, "but persecution is a thing of all times. I know it well." He raised one hand, cutting both of them off. "Relax, I'll be sure to keep a good eye on myself and the frog. For our sake if not yours."

He turned to leave, but Delavue pushed a button and sealed the doors. "This audience is not over, mystic--"

Lightning destroyed the doors' circuitry and wind blew them open with such force that the guards on the other side were knocked sideways. Magus turned, cape billowing in the storm created inside the throne room. His eyes flashed like stars. Still covered in blood and with bared fangs, he drove back the only guard to step forward and stared at the two monarchs.

"I am not a mystic. I am not something you are prepared to deal with. I don't care if you believe I'm a prince, but you'd better believe I'm a wizard who could take your beautiful castle apart and the only people who could stop me are my traveling companions." With a sharp wave of his hand the storm abated, the lightning faded and the wind died down.

Alfador slipped out of his shadow then, taking a look around before jumping into Magus' arms, nuzzling against his chest and putting all four paws in the air. Magus glared in annoyance at him. "You couldn't wait five more minutes?" he mumbled. He grumbled and looked back at the king. "I'll be gone soon enough. Deal with it until then." And with his arms full of a fuzzy kitty, the dark wizard stalked out of the throne room and up the stairs after his party, whispering to his cat.

At the top of the stairs, Frog stood waiting at an elevator with two guards several steps behind him. "Thou were't slow. An' thou hadst any problems?"

"No problem," Magus said. They both entered the elevator, speaking in low tones so the guards would not overhear. "But watch your back. They don't like mystics here and they won't trust either of us."

"Thou noticed the lack of creatures in the forest as well?" Frog said. "'Tis most worrisome. Though it pain me to say it, p'raps we'd best keep together whilst here."

"Wonderful."

Frog chuckled as their ride stopped and they walked out, impressed by the thick carpets and heavy tapestries on the walls. "I admit, I am curious. What didst thou tell them thou art, if not a mystic?"

"A pissed off wizard." He growled again at his cat, who purred in response. "Although walking out with a cat kind of ruined that."

"I am sure thou looked no less impressive." He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the guards were too far back to hear. "Did they recognize thee from thy previous visit?"

"They're idiots, of course not. All they saw was a fast moving shadow." Several courtiers in brightly colored, plastic clothing came down the hall, chattering in a group, but as they saw Frog and Magus they fell silent and stepped aside, whispering hurriedly as soon as they'd passed.

The guards left them at the door to their chambers. They stepped into a well furnished room with thick red carpets, two ivory doors and heavy velvet curtains framing the balcony. A vase of roses stood on a small circular table in the center of the room, and Lucca had already set her helmet down and was busy removing her holster and tool pouch. Marle came out of one door with Crono behind her.

"There's only two beds," she said, "but the sofa looks comfy enough and there's plenty of blankets in the linen closet. Um, we call the first bed."

Lucca, Frog and Magus all looked at each other. Frog was about to volunteer to take the sofa, but Magus beat him to it.

"I'll sleep out here." He walked away before either of them could say anything, slipping into the bathroom. In the morning he'd have to find a new cloak, but for now he focused only on figuring out the shower controls. Once he had the water only slightly warm, he stripped and lined his clothes on the edge of the stall. Without them on, most of the blood lay in his hair, and he rinsed it out as best he could. One by one he rinsed off his clothes and armor, saving his boots for last. The leather had been through worse, but naga blood stained quickly if left too long.

As he stepped out of the shower, toweling himself off, he spotted a bit of movement and turned to face it, one hand already coming up, only to see himself in the mirror. Her amulet still hung around his neck, never once removed. Deep blue hair, alabaster skin, sharply pointed ears. He'd always had blue hair, but his skin had once been normal, his eyes green instead of red. He touched the glass. His hands hadn't always been claws.

He stared at his reflection, wondering how long it had been since he'd seen himself armorless and without his cloak. It was a luxury he couldn't afford, when everyone who saw him thought 'evil mystic.' Even though Frog bore the only weapon that could truly kill him, he could still be hurt or poisoned, and healing would take too much time away from finding Schala.

He turned from the mirror. He shouldn't be here hunting down Flea and Slash. At best they were a minor distraction, easily held at bay. But some time during the last year, he'd stopped believing he'd find anything. Zeal was nothing but a legend in the past, completely forgotten in the future, and Marle's pendant seemed to spontaneously appear in the diaries of queens. Historians had no use for odd jewelry and the diaries only went back so far.

And if he did find her? If he admitted the truth to himself, his imagined reunion was not pleasant. She only knew him as the cold prophet, the sorcerer who had tried to defeat Lavos on his own and found himself far outmatched. What would she think of her quiet, strange brother now turned into a dark wizard? He touched one of his triangle earrings. He'd made them after mastering his strongest spell and had worn them all the years after.

At some point, he'd stopped learning magic and had become magic. No wonder that strange thing in the end of space and time called him powerful. Living with mystics and constant exposure had altered him even more than his sister.

"More than that," he whispered, staring at the floor. "I was only her step-brother. Mother, who was my father?"

But he'd never had an answer then and he certainly didn't expect one now. A burst of heat dried his clothes and he came out again in full armor. Marle, Crono and Lucca sat on the couch facing a black box on the wall with moving images on its screen.

"--wanted to stay with him at Serenitatis, but I guess the castle'll do." Lucca yawned and curled up on the edge of the sofa. "It'll help avoid the usual mob, too."

"Mob?" Frog asked.

Lucca grinned. "Yeah, whenever people find out the great Lucca Ashtear is in town, they absolutely crowd the streets trying to see me. That's why Marle and I usually visit in disguise."

Forcing a small smile, Marle nodded once and stared at the screen. Magus recognized images of himself inside the shopping center with the naga in his hand. The picture was a little grainy and monotone, so the blood looked like shadows, but there was no mistaking him slamming his victim against the wall.

"--body has already been burned," a voice inside the box said, "on a pyre outside city walls. Anonymous sources at the castle say the man shown is Prince Janus of a long lost Zeal Kingdom, and a powerful sorcerer. Also seen here--" and the camera focused on Frog holding the Masamune, "is reportedly a human knight turned into a large frog. Sources say Janus claims neither is a mystic, although--"

He ignored the rest and walked onto the balcony. Frog was already leaning against the curved white railing, but the balcony was large and Magus sat on the windowsill at the far end, bracing one leg on the railing. The city spread out before them like a blanket of glittering diamonds in neat rows as the sun sank and lights came on. None of the spires were as tall as the castle's and few even came close, giving them an unobstructed view of the horizon. Soon the brightest stars covered the sky, the dim ones washed out by the city's glare.

A few minutes later Marle came onto the balcony, standing a few feet from Magus as she glanced over the edge. She leaned forward on the railing, letting the wind blow her hair out of her face. "It's a beautiful city," she said softly.

He didn't answer.

"The people are usually so nice. And they love Lucca." She looked over her shoulder at him. "Did you see the guards talking to her?"

"You mean did I see her ego inflating?"

"...yeah." She sighed and idly ran her hand along the railing, "I don't think she even knows how it affects her. When her and Robo get together here, she's...I don't know. She takes more risks. Her experiments are getting more and more dangerous. Just a few weeks ago she blew up her gazebo. She said it had something to do with a feedback error something, but it was like she didn't care she'd nearly killed herself."

Magus half-shrugged. "Probably not the first time."

"That's what scares me," she said. "She's pushing herself harder and harder and she rarely comes by anymore and this place just praises her for it. One of her experiments will kill her and they'll build a statue for it and she'd probably say it'd be worth it."

"As opposed to your bell?" Magus said. "Or the praise your subjects heap on you?"

"I know..." She turned and looked back inside at Lucca, flipping through channels now as Crono watched in awe. "It felt like we were so close a year ago, but the more I think about it, we didn't really talk. Even now, it feels like we're fighting to keep our friendship going. You shouldn't have to fight to keep a friend."

"And in a few more years I'll be queen," she whispered. "And that'll be it."

Without waiting for an answer, she walked back into the room. Magus tipped his head back against the wall and groaned.

"Why do they all keep complaining to me?"

Frog laughed and glanced at him. "P'raps because they know thou carest not for them, and so can speak freely without fear of losing standing in thy eyes."

Magus just shook his head.

"Might I ask thee a question?"

He half shrugged.

"Thou saidst to burn the dead naga. Was that particular, or is it their custom to be buried as well?"

Magus stared at the sky for a long time, the wind blowing his hair back. Frog glanced at him, wondering if he'd answer, and thought that without the cloak covering him, he didn't seem nearly as old as usual. Though of course, what was the use of reckoning the age of mystics, or even whatever Magus was.

"Burial is for humans and animals covered by sediment and time." He finished the wine in his glass and looked down at it. "Mystics burn. It's the only light they can stand."

"Ah." Frog thought about that for a minute. "Then 'tis a return to the light."

"Call it what you want."

The wizard's tone darkened, and Frog figured that was the only question he was willing to answer this night. Back to business, then. "I spoke with Lucca whilst thou cleaned up. I shall only share her bed half the night, and keep watch the rest. Thou mayest avoid the sofa if thou art willing."

Even if he wouldn't admit it, he thought keeping guard was a good idea and didn't like the idea of sleeping in such an open space as that main room. He nodded once. "I'll take the first watch."  
There was a clatter inside, and they both looked in as Marle opened the door and received a cart full of food. "Ah, they have sent dinner. Wilt thou want any?"

"...I've eaten."

"Indeed. They showed it several times on what Marle called late night news. Thou shalt wake me later?"

"Yes."

Frog left and closed the curtains halfway to allow him some privacy. Alone now, he watched the clouds cross the city, sometimes touching a spire's tip, and listened to the wind blow across the castle's surface. Maybe later he would float down to the street and find a new cloak. With all those lights on, there had to be a shop open somewhere, and gold was gold everywhere. He'd have to wait until it grew a little darker, though. Until then, he drowsed in the cool air, much like the cool caverns he'd inhabited as he grew up in Guardia. The water flowed clear and reflected candlelight on the walls, and mystic whispers echoed through the caves so that he was isolated but never alone.

TBC...


	6. Ethers and the Mystic Project

****

Part 6

While everyone else went to sleep and Alfador curled up safely next to Lucca's side, Magus walked through their chambers, making sure the main door was sealed and that there were no hidden doors they'd overlooked. He glanced at the table with the remains of their dinner, but unlike Marle's kingdom, there was no carafe of blood for a weary sorcerer. A static hiss droned in the cabinet, and he touched the television's largest button to turn it off.

The entire castle seemed asleep. Only the occasional soldier tramping down the hall kept guard. For all the suspicion of this King Delavue, he apparently believed that Magus would keep his word. He walked back onto the balcony and grasped the railing, looking out over the city. The wind was still only cool, the city still hummed with faint music and he was still hungry.

Without a look back, he climbed onto the railing and leaped into the air. Controlling his fall, he floated towards the ground, arms out as he fell and using the castle wall to guide himself down. The courtyard that was all that remained of Guardia forest grew larger and larger, the dots of light turning into lamps, until he landed on the grass, startling the guards at the main gate. To his surprise, they did not attack. He watched them for a moment to make sure they wouldn't lunge when he turned his back, then walked out of the courtyard and down the main street.

Few people came near the castle so late, and he turned a corner down into a sidestreet. Without any streetlamps, the road was dark and empty. He glanced down the road just in case, then stood still and concentrated. Even among somewhat trusted companions, he would not reveal every spell in his arsenal, and if Frog thought he was limited to short teleportation spells to conceal himself, so much the better.

The shadows around him gathered and slid over his body like liquid, covering his body and face. With a thought he manipulated the shape and colors until it mimicked current clothing trends and prevalent skin tones. When he stepped back into the main street, he appeared to be a tanned, dark-haired commoner with black pants and long-sleeved shirt. Although everyone probably knew his face, he hoped that without the blue hair or white skin, no one would connect him to the prince on their television screen.

Arms crossed, head down, he walked beside closed stores and dark windows. Owls and insomniac sparrows sang in the night, out of place in the stone city. He put one hand on the wall and trailed his fingers over the smooth surface. Felt through his gloves, it reminded him of the damp caves he'd grown up, worn down by underground rivers and time.

On the next corner he spotted a group of drunkards singing and wobbling back and forth. With his next step, he gently pushed off of the ground and rose into the air, flying high enough to reach the tops of the shops clustered around the spires like eggs. He landed on one and continued walking, occasionally flying over a gap or street to the next shop, avoiding everyone below.

The noise and light grew stronger as he came to the center of Cronopolis. He paused to look down on it. Thousands of people, mostly youngsters, crowded the streets and sidewalks, hopping from building to building. Colored lights flashed out of every window, loud music pounded the air. He imagined mystics in place of humans, nagas slithering with shopping bags, goblins dancing in the clubs, ekans slurping down ice drinks. The lights were the right intensity, the music as loud as he could stand. It could have been their paradise.

He stepped off of the roof and landed gracefully, checking his reflection in a dark window to make sure his spell was still intact before making his way into the throng. As before, the amount of human food in the area overwhelmed his senses and nauseated him, and he hurried along the sidewalk. Being taller than most of the adolescents helped him navigate the crowd and find the rows of clothing stores opposite the clubs. After glancing at their displays, he chose one called Pedestals of Night. The attendants and shoppers were all dressed ridiculously, entirely in black with too much makeup, but the capes and cloaks looked better than anything else he'd seen.

He waved away one of the attendants and examined the rack of cloaks. All of them sagged on their hangers, limp and devoid of magick, but he could fix that later. He picked a thick black cloak with a long hood, reminiscent of his prophet disguise, and carried it to the cash register. As he took out a handful of coins, he spotted several bottles sparkling on the shelves behind her. "Ethers?" he asked.

"Huh?" She looked up at him. "Oh yeah, we got those. It's the real shit, too, not that filtered water crap. The strongest ones give you a real kick."

For magicless humans, no doubt they "kicked." He took five and handed over several gold coins. She stared at them for a moment, then put them into her register and made change. He couldn't help a sigh of relief. That money illusion trick didn't always work, especially after fights, and he didn't want to waste time convincing her that thousand year old coins were still valid.

Once outside again, he turned the cloak over his shoulders and brought the hood low over his face. Now he started attracting looks since few other people were wearing capes and he found another sidestreet away from the lights. As soon as no one could see him, he leaped back onto a rooftop and headed back to the castle. When he reached the courtyard, rather than bother with the guards again, he simply leaped up, riding the wind higher toward the balcony.

His cape billowed behind him as his hood fell back. The full moon hovered over the spire, growing larger and larger as he approached. For many years it had been his sun, his only light brighter than a torch or candle. He'd written spells by its glow, walked the forests with it following between the branches, timed his life not to the seasons like humans, but to the waxing and waning of each month. In human years, he was around twenty three. Mystic time was harder to reckon, especially since there was no way to count his moons before he arrived in Guardia, but all told he was a few moons shy of three hundred, very old for a mystic. When life could end in a claw's swipe or an arrow's strike, a moon was a long time.

And tonight the moon looked close enough to touch. Though tempted to pass the castle and find out what the moon was made of, he stopped himself at the roof and landed on the spire's top, sitting down on the rounded surface carefully. He unstopped his first ether bottle and held it to his lips, taking a quick taste to make sure it was ether before drinking. Less like water and more like light, he tipped his head back and let pure magic flow into him. The rush from an ether was always heady, but the children in this era must have added something to it, something that left a vague warmth in his stomach. Still, it wasn't the strongest kind of ether; he finished it quickly and set the bottle aside, already bringing out the next one.

Once he finished all but one, he spread his new cloak out and unstopped the last bottle. Drizzling ether across the cloth, he poured magic across its surface and set about casting the proper spells, one for durability, one for warmth, and one that would keep it out of his way while fighting. With so much ether in and around him, the loosed liquid rising like vapors and sparkling in the moonlight, he used little of his own magic. He breathed in the escaping fumes and relaxed, immersed in his own element for the moment.

Task completed, he set the bottles aside and lay back, watching the moon cross the sky. The night felt empty without the wild calls of mystics in the forest. All the sounds that were left were the hoots of owls and a few insomniac sparrows. Nights in Zeal had always been full of the noise and lights of strange experiments in magick, and the stars had never dimmed or darkened. In Zeal, night was sacred, the natural time of dreams. No other kingdom had ever cherished darkness like it, before or after.

He turned aside and his gaze fell on one of the empty ether bottles. He gate it a nudge and set it rolling over the edge of the spire. After several seconds, he heard the faint smash of glass on the ground. Waiting a few more seconds for the guards to get there, he nudged another bottle off. This time he heard shouting, but then the wind picked up and he couldn't hear them anymore. He wondered if the glass had cut any of them and imagined their blood dripping on the ground.

The blood he'd taken from the naga should have sated him, but as he grew older, he found that large amounts now made him crave more. Stranger when he considered that small amounts like in a carafe or, on occasion, an animal, didn't leave him wanting more. And on the rare occasion he tasted human blood...he smiled at the memory. Better than any ether, though not by much. His hand accidentally knocked over the last bottle and sent it over the edge.

"Magus, art thou the one up there?" On the balcony, Frog glanced over the railing at the soldiers scouring the courtyard. "I can hear guards approaching our door. Get down here before they see thee."

Moving slow enough to make sure Frog knew he was doing this because he wanted to, not because he was ordered, he jumped off the roof and landed on the balcony, his cloak swirling around him.

"Why were thou outside?" Frog asked, ducking back into the room with him and closing the doors, drawing the curtains shut. "I'd feared the worst."

"Didn't have time to go shopping after the fight," Magus said. He glared as Frog started to ask questions. "No, no one's hurt. Although if you don't shut up, you'll find yourself flying out the window."

"Thou could'st have said something," Frog said, ignoring the threat.

"I don't need your permission," Magus hissed.

"Thou hast already drawn the king's ire upon us. Wouldst thou jeopardize our journey?"

"I'm only here to get rid of Flea and Slash. And I could probably do that best alone. I already know which time to look in--"

"Thou knowest the era," Frog said smugly, "but thou dost not know what date. King Cassio ruled nigh fifty years. Wilt thou simply wait for thy mystics to appear?"

Magus scowled. "I don't know what I'm sick of more, your arguing or your accent. Play dog to a king that hates you if you want, I don't care." Without waiting for an answer, he turned and went into Lucca's bedroom, closing the door behind him. Alfador slept on the spare pillow, curled into a ball with his tail touching his nose, but when he heard his master come in he looked up and mewed, blinking his eyes sleepily.

"Yes, I'm back," Magus said softly, loosing his cloak and dropping it on the floor. He sat down on the edge of the bed and kicked off his boots, but he didn't lay down, instead staring out the small window. The city's light washed out the night sky so that all he could see were one or two bright stars in a field of blue. At least in more familiar eras, what the humans called medieval and prehistoric, the sky was black with thousands of stars spreading a comfortable glow across the forests and prairies. He reached over and rubbed the top of Alfador's head, making him purr.

Was there a point to any of this? Beyond the loose ends of killing Flea and Slash, of course. Time to face facts, he thought. His sister had to be dead. There was no other possibility. He'd searched every era, every archive, from the beginning of the world to the end of time. By now Schala was surely no more than a skeleton covered in sediment at the bottom of the ocean, inside the innermost chamber of the sunk Undersea Palace.

Their mother's pride became his sister's tomb and his downfall. So he had destroyed Lavos. So what? Would that be the sum of his life, the forgotten prince of a forgotten realm who needed the help of a handful of children to destroy his enemy? Even Cyrus could boast a better epitaph. And when he died, would there even be a grave stone? Who would mourn his passing? Frog?

"Should've turned that knight into a lap dog," he muttered, pausing as he pet his cat. "Alfador, what should I do?" Beneath his hand, Alfador rolled onto his back so Magus could pet his stomach. Well, not quite the answer he'd wanted, but he obliged anyway.

Schala was dead. He groaned and looked at the ceiling. But if that was true, why were there gates again, and all of them leading him to the eras he wished to travel to? Why this new fragmentation of history? If the world was unraveling again and the entity Lucca's pet robot had referred to was remembering parts of its life, then what was supposed to change? If he fit into the puzzle, and indeed he seemed to be a key player, then Schala had to have something to do with it. She was too much a part of him to be otherwise.

But another night of thinking about it wouldn't help. He sighed and lay down, resting his head next to Alfador, who started to snore. Magus watched his cat for a few seconds, then noticed Lucca on the other side of the bed, snoring as well. She looked odd without her glasses. Not better, just odd. He wondered if she could coax information out of this era. All the computers and officials seemed bent on opposing him but they leaped to obey her commands. In a way, she worked her own kind of magic made of gears and spells made of information bits, just as comfortable surrounded by machines as he was by true magic.

He closed his eyes and waited for sleep. While she and her robot worked out a chronology of his enemies' actions, he would scour the city. They wouldn't need him for awhile and there were other sources of information that he had not yet checked. In every era, the castle stored all of its information in the basement, but considering how Cronopolis sprawled over the land, the archives had to have grown with it. Perhaps he might even find a central mainframe now that all the technicians would be busy repairing the damage he and the naga had done to the main room. He reached up and lightly pet Alfador again, and the soft purring sent him to sleep.

Used to Alfador sleeping beside him every night, he didn't wake up when he felt a gentle nudge against his side or a light touch on his arm. But Lucca's startled gasp and sudden scramble away made him sit up before he was fully awake, wondering if she'd seen something crawling in through the window. All he saw were a few rumpled blankets, Lucca on the far side of the bed, and Alfador with wide eyes, also startled awake.

"Are you all right?" Magus asked on a tone that sounded more upset than curious.

"Sorry, yeah, I'm fine, sorry 'bout that." Lucca climbed out of bed and stepped into her shoes, already pushing her hair back. "I just forgot I wasn't home and then I woke up next to you...sorry. I didn't mean to freak out like that. Sorry."

He stared at her for a moment, then shrugged and ran one hand through his hair, straightening the loose bits in the back. With a brush from the night stand, Lucca tamed the worst of her own hair but gave up on the frizzles and tucked everything under her hat, which explained to Magus why she always wore that helmet.

He watched her squint and fumble over the nightstand for her glasses and slip them back on her face.

"How come your hair doesn't get all messy?" Lucca asked, peering at him.

"I don't move when I sleep," he said. Sunlight reflected off the surfaces of her glasses and he looked away.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Fine," he said, not about to tell her that too many potent ethers at once gave him, among other things, a headache resembling a hangover. "It's nothing."

Not pushing for answers, she picked up her utility belt and strapped it on. Digging through the compartments, she grabbed two small pills and pulled them out. "Here," she said, offering them.

He narrowed his eyes but still held out his hand. "What are they?"

"Pain killers," she said. "I process these from the bark of the trees around my house."

Dismayed that she'd noticed, he swallowed them anyway, grimacing at how bitter they were.

"Uh, sorry 'bout that," she said. "I'm still working on the taste."

He waved her off and stood, heading towards the door. Behind him, Alfador jumped off the bed and walked at his heels, following him into the dining room.

Breakfast was already served. A silver tray cart stood beside the table, half of its covered dishes unloaded. On the couch, Crono watched the television as Marle flipped channels. Frog stood at the balcony door, watching flocks of birds wheel through the sky, and he smiled as they came in.

"Fair morn'. I hope thy night passed well."

Lucca smiled back but Magus ignored him, deciding that his head was pounding too much to deal with Frog's accent. He instead picked over the breakfast tray, wondering if Frog had pulled another favor out of a castle cook. One crystal decanter in the center looked like it was filled with wine, but he doubted it'd be served so early. He picked up the decanter and unstopped it. Blood. He glanced at Frog, who smiled far too smugly for Magus' taste.

"Aye, 'tis amazing what pleasant words can bring that threats and jeers cannot."

"You might be surprised," Magus answered, finishing the decanter. He set it down, about to say something, when they heard a knock on the door.

At the same time, he held one hand up, ready to cast a fire spell, while Frog put one hand on his sword. There was no way of knowing if the king had decided to get rid of the two supposed mystics under his roof and neither was willing to take any chances.

Lucca didn't notice them and opened the door wide. A glint of light reflected off Robo's hand as he waved a greeting, and she hugged him in return. "Robo, I missed you!"

"You were only gone a month," he answered.

"It always feels longer there," she said.

While the two exchanged hellos, Magus lowered his hand and glanced over the robot. Despite the future's radical change, little had changed in Robo. He was polished, his gears ticked and clanked a little quieter, but the original design remained the same. Magus drew back a few paces, standing against the wall as the others greeted the robot. When addressed, he merely nodded once. He had never minded Lucca's toy as much as his other traveling companions.

It was decided that they would accompany Robo downstairs to the archives, confirming Magus' suspicions about a large central mainframe. He followed after them, bending and picking up Alfador before he'd gone very far. The halls were now choked with courtiers and guards, and he had no reason to trust any of them. In fact, as they came to the main floor and headed towards the stairs that would take them to the archives, he noticed the guards following behind them in pairs, moving quietly as if he might not notice them. Fools.

As Robo led them around a corner, Magus sped up just enough to move out of sight for a split second. He vanished as they came after, and when he reappeared, he found himself in a dark corridor not far from the main. He looked around slowly. After using hidden passages in his own castle, especially the corridor hiding his most powerful weapons and armor, he instinctively sensed halls most royalty thought were undetectable. No doubt this one was accessed by a secret door he'd bypassed.

"Shall we see what's inside?" he whispered to Alfador. He curled his hand in the air, creating a blue flame to light his way, and walked steadily down the path, ignoring how loud his footfalls sounded on the slick stone. Obviously no one came through often, or at least no one willing to clean. The walls were damp and puddles dotted the floor. But it had to lead somewher or else why keep a passage at all?

Though confined in the narrow passage, the light now seemed to expand as the passage opened into a large chamber. As damp and murky as the hallway leading up to it, this room contained what he was looking for, a large computer like the one he'd seen in the original future, the bleak wasteland. He set Alfador down and pressed a button, remembering a little of what he'd seen Lucca do with these things. The screen flickered a few times, then hummed steadily and showed him a long menu of key words. He skimmed them, hitting the down arrow past each one, a few words standing out among the rest. Andirath, Ashtear, Ayla, Bedonan, Cassio, Crono, Delax, Glen, Kino...

"It's a royal database," he said softly. "Every member of the royal family. But why is Lucca's name written among them?"

He decided he'd ask her later. No doubt his absence had been noticed by now. If more than a handful of people knew about this room, he wouldn't have much time to look. He selected Cassio and clicked the retrieve button. Another menu came up, listing various religious ceremonies, agrarian accounts, and military campaigns. He selected the military campaigns and faced another menu, this time listing Cassio's achievements and losses on the battlefields. Magus raised an eyebrow at the losses. "So, this is the repository of accurate information, not the cleaned up version I read before."

Numerous campaigns were listed, each with a sublist of battles and skirmishes, and PorreMystics sat in the middle. He clicked it and found a single slim paragraph, happily in plain English and not the flowery work the scribes were so fond of then.

__

Five hundred citizens missing, presumed dead, and several hundred mystics discovered to be alive in the surrounding forest and swamp. A few were discovered stark mad in the houses of humans, and were put to the sword. All others fled and escaped. A scorched earth policy is in place, but the swamp resists burning. 

That was all. He checked the date at 30 A.D. and frowned. Lucca's archive held much more information than this. What had happened between her time and now that affected their database so much? He returned to the main menu and found a chronology, but instead of an easily navigable line, he found a confusing jumble of keywords linked through time. He decided to start at the year 2300 A.D., guessing the change would happen closer to this time. Less than halfway through he found it, an earthquake that originated in the ocean, pushing up a long submerged coliseum, and a sudden surge in the mystic population. He clicked on it and blinked. Aside from the year, 2100 A.D., the entire text read "no information available." He clicked ahead. The next block of information dated a full three years after the earthquake, a mere notice that the castle had been rebuilt. He clicked through the next several stories, but nothing of relevance appeared. Back to the chronology, then, and he skimmed ahead in time, looking for any mention of mystics. Random hunts and slaughters on both sides were listed, and the last one was only twelve years before Robo's time. All the mystics were reportedly slaughtered, but the bottom of the article mentioned something called the Mystic project--

Footsteps echoed from down the passageway. He turned and spotted torchlight coming towards him, and he turned back to the computer. Covering his tracks, he clicked back deliberately to the main menu. They might be able to discover what he'd read, but not until someone examined the logs, and for now he had only to stall them long enough to escape. He had what they'd come for, the year of Flea and Slash's main attempt, and he looked up one more time at the screen to make sure he was back at the list of royal names. He froze, staring near the bottom of the list.

Janus Zeal.

Schala Zeal.

The guards were coming closer but he didn't move. For a moment he stopped breathing. Impossible. The current monarchs had not even known who he was, what the Zealan kingdom was. How could their names be on this list? How could her name be on the list? Ignoring the guards, only yards behind him now, he clicked her name. All he found was a year, 1010 A.D., but it was something at least.

A yell, and someone fired a bolt from their firearm. He recognized the crackling sound of superheated light burning the air as it shot towards him and sidestepped it. He put one arm over Alfador, shielding him with his cape as the cat disappeared to safety, then turned and answered the attack with his own lightning.

The guard who'd shot was flung back into the narrow corridor and into his comrades, a few of whom accidentally shot their own blasters. Their lasers flowed over the damp walls and back over the entire lot of them, dropping them in a smoking pile like gasping fish. Magus spared them no attention, looking for another way out. He found it to his left, more a crevice than a passage, but he ran through it, turning the sharp corners and avoiding the jutting stones left in the walls.

His cape snagged several times and he wasted precious seconds pulling free. Not long after his initial escape, he heard more people after him, and their own tighter clothing gave them an easier time through the crevice. He couldn't turn easily so he risked setting a dark bomb off in front of himself, passing through it before it was fully formed and rushing forward. He was in luck, the corridor turned sharply and opened into a small room. As he stepped clear, the explosion sent bits of shattered stone after him, but the footsteps stopped. It would take them awhile to climb over the fallen and continue the chase.

He turned and studied this new room. Completely subterranean, the only light came from the rows of torches along the walls. His eyes needed no time to adjust and he saw that this was not simply a room, but a circular chamber with large wooden doors spaced evenly along the wall like spokes to a wheel. A long table filled the center of the room, holding a few scattered items that he recognized as similar to tools in Lucca's house, along with a handful of small computers. He walked closer to the table and found immaculately clean scalpels, needles and other medical instruments, as well as a magic tab on a microscope and...he frowned and looked closer. If the smell wasn't enough to identify it, he certainly recognized the remains of the upper body of a goblin.

Its head was gone, though he'd bet the lump beneath the black cloth beside the remains was the head, or at least the brain. The chest had been broken open and the heart taken out, and the intestines were clearly exposed and trailed a bit from where the body had been cut in half. He looked around at the table again. This wasn't the clean slaughter of an army. This was slow, methodical. A stack of notes lay beside the body and he picked them up.

He didn't have time to read much. By the time he'd scanned the first page, more people were coming through the door. Their forced approach through the cramped door gave him an easy target, so without bothering to look where he was aiming, he raised one hand to send a fireball towards them. A loud explosion and a second fireball coming towards him made him turn, and he barely dodged the flame in time.

"The only reason I didn't fry you," Lucca yell, "is 'cause I know you didn't think it was me you were aiming that piddly little fireball at!"

When she came close enough to reach him, he tossed the bundle of notes on the table for her to see. As she picked them up and looked over them, he walked towards the nearest door and, when it wouldn't open, blasted it in. The stench of rotting flesh pushed him away from the door. He put his hand over his mouth and peered inside. Several mystic corpses lay on the floor, as mangled as the one on the table. They looked as if they'd been tossed haphazardly inside, probably for disposal.

"Mystic project," he heard Lucca mumble, and he turned around. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"They're trying to find out where their magic comes from," she said. "So they're dissecting...pithing...oh my God...they vivisected these ones."

"They'll never find the source," Magus said, turning his back on the small chamber. "It's not inside them."

"This is why there are no mystics around the castle," Lucca said. She looked around the room again. "But why are they doing it here? Underground, in such medieval conditions. It can't be just secrecy, they could hide it in a tower."

"I'd hazard the scientists just cut their specimens up for show to keep the royals off their backs," Magus said, "and being down here lets them hide from the king that much better. Palace bureaucracy, Ashtear. That's all it is."

She looked at him, then at the room he'd opened. The rest of the rooms were probably the same. There were no other sounds beside their own. The notes in her hand started to smoke and the edges caught fire, startling her. She blew them out quickly. One of the computers on the table, a tiny handheld screen with a few buttons along the side, caught her eye and she picked it up.

"I built these things," she said, turning it over. "Robo and I spent a month perfecting them. They sell them in that big mall you ran through..." She stopped talking and dropped it.

It shattered on the floor into a dozen circuit cards and plastic pieces. With a swift motion, she rolled the notes up and tucked them into her shirt. After squaring her glasses on her face, she glanced at him. "We found the date we need. We can leave now. You said mystics should burn when they die?"

He nodded once. "Go on. I'll do it."

"Then I'll meet you in the throne room."

As soon as she had left, the echoes of her flames scaring off guards trying to waylay her, he looked around the room. Good thing he'd taken those ethers, otherwise he'd be running on fumes when this was over. He jumped on top of the table and put out his hands.

Moving his arms in a familiar pattern, he whispered to the darkness around him. Pure magic gathered in the air and floated near him, then spread out in blazing red circle to every corner of the room. A moment later, everything exploded in flames. The room turned orange and black, and the heat made the walls appear to undulate as if underwater. He swept his hand downward and instead of a small flame to light his way, an arc of fire spilled out onto the floor, eating through the doors and into the smaller rooms. The computers melted, the table caught fire. When he was certain that everything was destroyed or well on its way to becoming ashes, he smashed a slab of ice onto the floor and followed it to the entrance. By the time he was over into the narrow crevice, the ice was water quickly turning into steam.

Lucca had left her own casualties on her way upstairs, he saw. Dozens of guards lined the floor from the computer room down through the secret passage. This time he didn't have to transport himself to the other hall since she'd left the door wide open, a well-hidden slab of uneven bricks that swung out easily. Loud voices and gunfire led him straight to the throne room.

That nothing was destroyed surprised him, although he did notice that the draperies were smoking heavily and the thrones had begun to melt. Crono, Marle, Glen and Robo all stood to one side, their wide eyes and indecisive faces telling him they didn't know what Lucca was talking about. He passed them and stood at her shoulder, casting a barrier spell on her in case another soldier tried to get a shot off while she was talking. From the sound of things, she'd been raging for several minutes now.

"--long has this been going on?" she yelled. "Did you think I wouldn't find out eventually?"

The queen glared furiously back, undeterred. "Your accusations are groundless! There aren't any mystics in Guardia--"

"I have the notes right here!" Lucca snapped. "The mystic project, trying to find the secret of magic for yourself. You've probably hunted them down to extinction in this area."

"Lucca Ashtear," the king started, "you have been our honored guest, but you overstep yourself. You hold no authority here. You have no right to criticize our way of life, to force your medieval ideas on us."

"Hypocritical ideas, too," the queen said. "Didn't you kill legions of the pests on your journeys?"

"Only in self-defense," Lucca said. "I never tortured them."

"A rather fine distinction," she said.

Magus held out one hand, lightning crackling over his glove. "Care to experience the difference? You might not think it so fine."

"There's the real reason for your indignation right there," the queen said to Lucca, glaring at Magus. "Your penchant for pet mystics clouds your judgment."

"Would you have cut them apart?" Lucca screamed. The curtains burst into flames, as did the clothes of many guards. The edge of the queen's dress caught fire and she shrieked, kicking at the flames.

Lucca stared at the king, and his robes ignited while his crown melted onto his face. "Would you have vivisected Frog?"

On the sidelines with the Masamune half-out of its sheath, Frog paused . What was vivisection and what did it have to do with him?

Magus frowned. She was worried about the frog?

"I trusted you!" Lucca yelled. She didn't hear the screams of nearly everyone around her. Her rage enveloped her and she turned it outward as flames shot up the walls and out of the room. Only her friends and Magus beside her were untouched.

Wondering why they hadn't stopped her yet, he glanced at Marle and Frog and found them earnestly trying to quash the flames. Frog's water turned to steam before it even touched the fire, and while Marle's ice worked a little better, turning to slush and dampening some of the carpet, Lucca's anger was simply too great.

"I helped you people!" Lucca kept going. "For you to take my work and twist it into that horror I saw--"

"It's not fair that you have this talent and we don't!" the queen said. Her dress was blackened up to the knee. "You're only useful because you have magic! You wouldn't be a genius without it!"

Lucca fell silent, but her gaze didn't waver. At last she noticed the damage she'd caused and the fires still raging out of control. For a moment, Magus thought she might swallow all the fire back down.

"You don't know what genius is," Lucca whispered.

The outer wall turned white hot and exploded into the front garden, taking out two hapless guards. With a sharp turn, Lucca walked out, stepping over the debris as she left. She didn't bother looking if her friends were following. She knew they would.

Civilians, guards, everyone cleared the street as they walked past, unwilling to catch the attention of the girl with sparks in her footsteps. Magus fell in step with her, but there was no need to keep a front line. No one dared stop them. He glanced sideways at her. There was no hint of any emotion besides anger on her face.

"You were worried about the frog?" he asked quietly. "He can take care of himself."

"He's too trusting," Lucca said. "I can just hear him. 'Thou needeth me up on yon table with needles poking into mine brain? Very well, if thou wish it'."

The lack of an indignant grumble meant that Frog hadn't heard her.

At the main gates, they saw that the reason they hadn't met any resistance was that the soldiers had massed near the large stone doors, weapons drawn. Lucca tensed, expecting a long firefight, but a solid block of ice smashed through the gates and sent shards of ice through the air like hail, driving the soldiers back. Lucca looked over her shoulder at Marle, who had cast the spell. The princess' look said that she didn't understand all of what was going on but she trusted her genius enough to follow her blindly. Unable to help a smile, Lucca nodded once at her and turned back to the gates, resuming their walk.

Once they were through and across the bridge, both Magus and Marle turned and sealed the broken entrance with ice, stalling anyone who might try to follow them. As they headed back to the Epoch, Lucca cooled down enough to feel the weight of what she had done, slowing her stride and staring at the ground. After a moment, she turned and gave the notes to Robo, silently walking beside him while he scanned them into his memory bank.

After awhile, he turned towards her. "Mistress Lucca," he said, "I'm sorry. I didn't know what was happening there."

"I know," she said. "You couldn't have. They made sure you wouldn't. Robo, I'm sorry. I think I've ruined any hope of staying in Guardia."

"That is no hardship," Robo said. "Our lab on Choras is our most important and our most secure. What concerns me more is if your next actions in the past will affect this future. Adjusting myself to this era was not difficult, but altering time again will be unpredictable at best."

"I wish I knew," she said. "But when even a bit of jerky can change a whole family for generations, who knows what effect we'll have."

"Maybe one for the better," Robo said. "The deaths of these mystics may not happen."

"Or we may prompt an even bigger massacre," Lucca said. "I don't know, and we can't try to second guess our every decision, or else we'll never act at all."

They walked in silence through the forest until they came to the Epoch. While Frog and Crono uncovered it, Marle watched Lucca and Robo speak a few feet away. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but from the look on her friend's face, they were saying goodbye. Marle glanced at Magus. "Why isn't Robo coming with us?"

"Five seats," he said.

She frowned. "That can't be the only reason."

He crossed his arms and refused to look at her. "The last time she took him out of the time stream, she risked his entire existence. This way she knows he'll be here in some form or another."

"Oh..." Marle watched Lucca throw her arms around Robo one more time, then wipe her eyes and come towards them. Robo stayed behind, watching as they all climbed into the Epoch. Even he was wary of Lucca's machine and stepped back several feet out of blast range as Lucca fired the engines and brought the turbines up to speed. He waved to them as they lifted, rapidly becoming a small dot on the ground before the trees covered him up.

From the front passenger seat, Magus watched Lucca put in the year, 2100 A.D. She noticed his look and tilted her head, and when he nodded, she gave the Epoch the command and sat straight. "Do you think he'll still be here when we're done?" she asked in a whisper.

"Probably," he answered. "We altered the future radically, yet he remained."

"Yeah, but still..."

He glanced at her. She stared forlornly at the controls as she took them around the world, gathering enough speed to break through time. She looked as if she had just consigned her best friend to death. Magus snorted and looked out the window. "And they call _me_ arrogant."

Smoke immediately wafted from the controls as she glared at him, ready to singe his skin. After a couple seconds, though, she half smiled and looked back at the screen. The smoke vanished. With a flick of her wrist she sent them hurtling through the time stream, and as they flew between eras, she glanced at him. "Thanks."

TBC...


	7. Battle at the Sunken Coliseum

**Part 7**

The Epoch appeared over the ocean, the sun rising in front of them. Magus sunk a little deeper into his cloak and narrowed his eyes, but a moment later the windows turned a few shades darker, blocking out the worst of the glare. He blinked and glanced at Lucca.

"Adjustable ultraviolet shields," she said softly so the others wouldn't hear. "Installed 'em a couple weeks ago after the sun made me hit a tree."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I just clipped a wing," she said defensively and looked back out at the ocean. "Help me find the dumb coliseum."

"How can you be sure it's already risen?" he asked, but he glanced at the controls and brought up a small holographic map between themselves. "The earthquake that brings it to the surface may not yet have happened."

"..."

He looked back at her. Every time she held silent, something momentous and awful usually happened. "Ashtear, you'd better not be holding back on me. I don't have the patience for games anymore."

Instead of answering right away, she just nodded once and brought the Epoch down several hundred feet until they flew just above the ocean's surface, skimming the water. She set the autopilot and leaned back in her seat, about to speak when she noticed how quiet the backseat had grown. Loathe to discuss the topic even in front of her friends, she knew she couldn't convince Magus to wait until they were alone for an explanation.

"Consider the loop coincidences occurring through the time stream," she started in her blandest voice, "and the constants of event triggers at our every point of destination. Despite the wide variables and infinite combinations of arrival times, we consistently actualize a vital intimation of historical and, for us, future events."

Magus' narrowed eyes widened. Why on earth would she suddenly speak-- Everyone in the backseat abruptly sighed and looked out the windows, tuning out the scientist as she rambled in jargon. Ah, that explained it. His estimation of her rose and he spoke in low tones. "We consistently arrive at the proper time, yes."

"Even taking into account that we can narrow our intended time within a year," she said, also lowering her voice, "we always seem to appear the day something happens. Once or twice, maybe, but every time? No way it's a coincidence."

Something's controlling everything, he thought, leaning back in his seat. "I must admit, the thought had occurred to me as well. Your entity?"

Lucca stared at him. "Do you think that's it?"

Of course not. At least not this time. He remembered his long year of searching, always finding a timegate to the next era he needed to visit, always finding a way to the next clue. "But Lavos is dead," he murmured, "and the entity untroubled, it seems."

"If anything is doing this," Lucca said, "then whatever is at work here must be not be a threat to the world, only to us. Humans. So I doubt that the entity is concerned all that much."

"On a global scale, what's a few million humans?" Magus added. Or reptites, come to think of it. "If the entity is concerned only with its own destruction and nothing threatens it now, then something else must be leaving us these gates."

"Lavos is dead," Lucca said slowly. "But there was one relic of his that we never fully destroyed. It's possible--"

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "The mammon machine was just a receptacle for its power. It had no will of its own. It was just a machine."

"Robo is a machine, and he has self-will," she said. "The mammon machine contained the strongest magical force in this world, who knows what might have happened during all this time." With a heavy sigh, she leaned back in her seat and stared at the ocean going by. "Of course, this is all just conjecture. We don't have any hard facts on whether or not Lavos' energy could take form or independent will."

Several silent minutes of searching passed before Magus responded. "His energy _could _take form."

She glanced at him.

"Me," he whispered. "I don't know about Schala. Mother's husband was still alive when she was born, but he died long before I came along."

Her eyes widened. "You mean, Lavos is your...?"

"Doesn't it make sense?" he said. "Lavos warped all of Zeal, myself most of all. My body took such a long time adapting to his influence that I didn't come into my power for years."

"You're not like that galactic monster," she said.

"Aren't I?" he laughed bitterly. "Dark magic, parasitic...he devoured worlds, I drink blood." He stared at his hands as if he could see the claws beneath the gloves. "I'm alive, but I'm just as much a vampire as he was."

"No," she said, putting her hand on his. "You're not like him at all."

Frozen, he stared at her. Her confidence confused him. After a moment, she drew back and stared at the map, adjusting their flight. He sat straight in his seat, ill at ease in the half-darkness provided by his cloak. After a minute, he shook his head and put her belief out of his mind. Her actions, like much of the world, would have to wait until his search finished, if it ever did. And there lay another conclusion he dreaded. The mammon machine lay at the bottom of the ocean.

As did his sister.

"Found it," Lucca suddenly said, turning the Epoch slightly north. Not long after, the arched colonnades of the coliseum appeared on the horizon. Three stories high with a spire in the center, it grew larger and larger until it towered over them, blotting out the sky. Lucca landed the Epoch in front of its massive gates and released the locks.

"Careful," Magus warned them. "Flea and Slash may already be here."

"I hope so," Frog said as he climbed out with everyone. "'Twill be quite boring if we must wait."

The gates groaned as they pushed them open but the sound didn't rouse any would-be attackers, echoing with the wind through empty corridors. Magus couldn't help a quick glance around himself with everyone else. Tall pillars formed a stone forest that disappeared outside the circle of light from the open doors.

"Where are we?" Marle asked. "I thought this thing was open on the inside."

"It is," Lucca said. "I think we're under the stands. If we keep going, we should find a door into the main seating area." She held a strong flame spell in her hand to light their way through the darkness, leading them past a maze of columns and ornately carved scrollwork along the ceiling.

"Wow," Marle said, gazing at the figures chiseled into the stone. "I wonder who did all this."

"I'd guess a civilization several hundred years after us," Lucca said, pointing out the strange devices the figures held. "Look at all the things they're using. I think I recognize a few of my prototypes..."

While they distracted themselves with the artwork, Magus ignored them and followed a few feet behind the group. So far they had encountered no strange enemies, tripped no hidden traps and heard only the wind blowing through the empty stadium. Unusual, to say the least. Normally they were attacked when they first arrived in a new time. At the very least, they met local people. Hearing only the wind and their own voices unnerved him.

The silence stretched out as they pushed open the next pair of large doors and stepped onto the soft sand that lined the arena of the coliseum. Straggling at the back of the group, he walked slowly after them, staring at the stone stands. He thought it was strange to see stone masonry with advanced technology in the decorations, but who knew how future generations might live? He paused as a familiar whisper blew through the air.

"Thou art lagging," Frog said, coming back towards him. "Is something wrong?"

"I hear it," Magus said. "The black wind blows..."

"Tis nothing here," Frog said. "Methinks thou art overreacting."

The sand around both of them exploded, blasting them from every direction as strong white light surrounded them like a box with a lid. Frog instinctively lashed out with the Masamune at the same time that Magus sliced blindly with his scythe, nearly cutting Frog in half at the same time. The wall of light shimmered but held.

Ahead of them, their companions turned and drew their weapons as a sharp crack of thunder sounded at the far end of the coliseum. High above them in what would have been an emperor's box stood Ozzie, flanked by Flea and Slash. In Ozzie's hand, the sunstone sparkled as bright as its namesake.

Lucca didn't waste time waiting for the inevitable speech but immediately cast her napalm spell at the box. Flea and Slash both ducked, but Ozzie stood still and the spell flashed harmlessly against the box as if a screen had been erected. Lucca cursed and drew her gun.

"Such determined heroes to follow me across space and time," Ozzie laughed, gazing smugly from his perch. "But I'm afraid you're too late. Our revenge against the human race is at hand."

"What are you gonna do out here in an empty coliseum?" Lucca shouted.

"Oh, so you don't know what's under us," Ozzie said. "The sunstone's energy has given me access to a far greater power, one which will let me end the human race before it even begins."

A cold chill ran down Magus' spine, but all he could do was hold his breath and hope he was wrong.

"What are you talking about?" Marle demanded. "You can't end us before we began. You'd have to change time at the very beginning."

"There is one creature in the timeline," Ozzie said, "that was so powerful it affected change from whatever chronological point it was in. We hoped to summon it once during the war. Now we'll finally get our chance."

Frog stepped as close to the barrier as he could. "Magus, do they mean--?"

"There's no other explanation," Magus said.

"Lavos is dead!" Marle said. "We killed it!"

Beside the princess, Lucca gasped and stepped back. "Oh God...I never thought of using the sunstone to find it..."

"That's right!" Ozzie said, pointing dramatically at the sand in front of them. "All those nights of listening to Magus whine about his sister and the mammon machine are finally paying off!"

"Thou were't a whiner?" Frog chuckled despite himself. "I suppose I shouldst not be surprised but--"

"Oh shut up," Magus snapped. "I was a child surrounded by mystics, of course I whined."

Ominous rumbling echoed through the coliseum, knocking off crumbling bits of stone and shaking the ground as it grew louder. As everyone knelt so they wouldn't fall, Magus flew a few inches off the ground, hovering close to the barrier. He put his hand against it, wincing as it burned his skin through his glove. With a little pressure, he found that he could push into the light, but he withdrew before he burned too badly.

"Art thou mad?" Frog winced. "Dost thou wish to do thy enemy's job for them?"

"I know this spell," Magus said, plucking at the bag on his belt with his good hand. "I don't think I can get out, but I should be able to slip you through."

"How?" Frog watched him pull open the bag and release a familiar swirling energy into the air, complete with lightning bolts flashing around him, and he jumped back while brandishing his sword. "Nay, sorcerer! Thou shalt not change me into an even more hideous form!"

"Little idiot," Magus said, directing the magic towards Frog. "For this to work, you might need to lose the accent...Glen."

Outside the force field, no one noticed the little drama played out as the last earthly essence of Cyrus returned Frog to his rightful form, reshaping the amphibian knight and leaving a young human in extremely ill-fitting clothes. Glen fell to his knees as he suddenly felt lighter and heavier at the same time. Green hair streamed past his shoulders and hid his face as he panted for breath, and he studied his hands for the first time in years.

"Get up," Magus said. "You can look at yourself after the fight."

"Mine...mine form..."

"I told you once, Fro--pest, you didn't have the accent before, so lose it now. Otherwise you might not be able to get through."

Glen looked up at him with wide eyes. "Why hast thou--why did you do this?"

"The spell's locked in on our names. You should be able to slip through if you're not Frog--"

"No!" Glen stood up, grabbing the breeches that were suddenly too baggy and too short before they slipped off his hips. "I mean why this? You could've changed me into anything. Why give me back my true form?"

Magus narrowed his eyes. "I owe you no explanations. Now get out there!" He called down a blast of lightning that threw Glen towards the barrier and right through it without so much as a singe. Glen rolled along the sand a little, coming to a stop at Lucca's feet. As the genius looked down at him, the flash of green hair caught Marle's attention and she looked over at the same time.

"Frog?!" Marle cried. "That's what you look like?"

"You never told us you were hot!" Lucca gasped.

"I didn't look like this before," Glen said, standing up with one hand firmly on his breeches. "Didn't sound quite like this, either," he whispered to himself. After so long, how easy it was to return to his old speech. He clasped the Masamune in his hand and found the weight a little different. Perhaps it would be better if he relied on magic for this battle. Then he noticed the girls staring at his pants and felt his face heat up. "Does anyone have a belt they can spare?"

Marle turned and wordlessly pushed Chrono towards him. While Glen took the offered spare belt and shored up his dignity, he spared a glance at Magus still locked behind the barrier. The wizard paced back and forth like a caged animal, his fangs bared as the thunderous rumbling grew louder, finally erupting in a shower of sand and stone as something huge blasted up from the earth, blocking out the sun. For an instant the coliseum turned pitch black, but as the sand fell back to earth, they all stood in momentary awe staring at the mammon machine reborn. It was not the simple mechanical creation that they remembered. Lavos' surge of power so many years ago left deep scars across the metal surface while the sunstone gave a red glow to the long-dead electric lights. And despite the cloudy surface of the protective shell on the front of the machine, they all recognized the outline of the lost Zealan princess trapped within, her eyes burning as she scanned the battlefield without any flicker of recognition.

"Impossible," Marle whispered. "We destroyed it..."

"We defeated it," Lucca said, raising her gun. "But it sank into the ocean. I...I never imagined that Schala..."

Knowing he wouldn't like what he saw but unable to stop himself, Glen looked back at Magus. He wasn't surprised to see spells cast in a fury at the force field, all of them uselessly deflected. Magus wasn't even looking at him. The wizard's attention focused on his sister, now presented after his agonizing search just within reach. Smoke rose from his gloves, smoldering from the rapid fire spells and from trying his claws on the force field out of sheer desperation. Glen suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Even for an enemy, he found such taunts cruel. But he no longer felt that Magus was an enemy, whatever strange companions he and Magus had become, and dangling Schala before him was nothing short of dishonorable. With the courage built in him after years of being a frog, Glen called out to him.

"Magus! I promise you, I'll save her!"

Halting his spells, Magus blinked once and stared at him. "She's not some damsel to rescue, you idiot! She's trapped by that power, she won't recognize you!"

Glen frowned in confusion. "What?"

"He's right," Lucca said, understanding in a flash. "The machine provides the power, but Schala provides the will. We're not fighting the machine...we're fighting her."

The party's momentary disbelief shattered when the first attack came, a blazing light so hot that the air crackled. Protected by the field, Magus watched helplessly, unable to move to their aid, unable to get close to his sister. Burned by his escape attempts, his hands flexed, itching to get around Ozzie's throat. Even now he heard him screaming in laughter.

"Hey, Magus!" Flea yelled from Ozzie's side. "You should be thanking us!"

"All your searching and we found her first," Slash laughed.

Trembling in rage, he nearly gave into his urge to attack the barrier again, no matter how useless his attempts. Her long incarceration had driven Schala mad with panic and fear, and watching his traveling companions struggling against her blind anger nearly blinded him as well.

"Think she even recognizes you, Magus?" Ozzie asked.

His shoulders dropped as he realized the truth of that question. If she recognized him, it was only as the false prophet leading Zeal to its ultimate failure. If she recognized him at all, it was only as the source of her hate, the wizard who lost her a brother and a kingdom, her whole world, all in one maser stroke. She would only know him as the rest of time knew him, the dark magus, pawn of Lavos.

"If this is what it takes," he whispered, touching the amulet around his throat, Schala's last gift to him. Holding it in one hand, he stared at the flickering magic holding him prisoner and came to his decision.

"My looks never mattered," he said softly, speaking to her even though he knew she couldn't hear. "You'd know me if I could touch you again, if you could hear me. Not this name I created, but..."

Another series of explosions rocked the coliseum. Huge sections of the walls blew away with the force of each spell, sand blasted into smooth glass, and the sky turned dark with the intense magic swirling overhead. If this battle was a storm, Magus was the calm at the center.

Rushing to heal his friends after every attack, Glen began to despair of winning this battle. The mammon machine did not have access to a vast amount of power, but what it did have was wielded masterfully by the girl held within. The Zeal royal family raised powerful magic users, he thought, each of them stronger than the last. He doused the flames on Marle's clothes and cast a quick healing spell on Lucca while Marle healed Crono, who sliced deep into the circuitry in the center of the machine. Sparks flew, the lights flickered once, and then Schala sent a wave of lightning over them. Glen winced and healed himself while Lucca retaliated with napalm, coating the front of the machine in flames.

At least there was no wind or rain, he thought, no horde of mystics coming from every direction or helpless victims to protect. His enemy lay before him, his sword was in his hands, but he felt none of the thrill he'd once felt for battle. How could he when the kind girl who'd helped them in the distant past now stood before him as his enemy? Glen almost wished he was Frog again, imagining that as the frog knight he might still taste that lust for victory. Instead all he felt was tired and a deep wish that the fighting would end.

From up on the balcony once reserved for kings, the three mystic generals watched the battle as if it was entertainment, careful to ward the worst damage away from themselves.

"This won't last much longer," Ozzie mused, watching the team slowly run low on ethers and potions. "A few more minutes, if that."

"They'll make fine cadaver soldiers," Slash said.

Flea giggled. "I was actually hoping to use them for something else before they croak. Can we at least eat Magus?"

"You know," Ozzie said with a smile, "I'm not sure if he'll die like a human or burn up like a mystic. The suspense is killing me."

"Hey," Flea said, leaning over the railing. "Look at him. He's just standing there."

"Finally accepted his fate," Slash said. "At last we'll see the end of the Magus."

Inside his prison, even though he couldn't hear them, Magus agreed. This barrier rested on the name he'd given himself. To save his sister, he had to let that name go.

No outward change manifested itself. Silently drawing his scythe, he breathed deep and took a step back, then flew forward as fast as he could. As he struck and passed into the barrier, the magic around him exploded and threw him forward into the sand, his skin burned and his clothes singed with flames flickering at the edge of his cloak, but as he pulled himself to his feet, Janus smiled despite the pain. Raising his scythe once more, he darted past Glen and Lucca, outrunning their spells as he shouldered his way through Schala's last firestorm, a blaze of light and heat that dazzled his eyes and blinded him so that he had to aim at the blurry image of his sister behind the shimmery surface of the mammon machine. With all his strength, he swung his scythe at his sister, slamming the blade into the shield in front of her. For a moment the powerful hit sounded like a musical note vibrating around them. A crack appeared on the shield, spreading out until it and his scythe shattered, sending shards of metal and magic in all directions. For the first time in thousands of years, his sister breathed the open air and felt the sun on her face. Stepping into the small chamber, he stood over her and put his arms around her, relaxing with a sigh as he closed his eyes.

Finally free, all Schala recognized was that something had breached her shield and caught her. Instinctively she pressed her hands against his stomach and cast a bolt of energy that punched through his abdomen, leaving a gaping, smoking hole in its wake.

Somewhere behind him he thought he heard a scream. Pushed back slightly by the force, he stared into Schala's eyes, relieved as they stopped burning in madness and focused on him, narrowing as she tried to remember who he was.

"Schala..." he whispered. A drop of blood welled over his lip and spilled down. "I found you."

Locked within the mammon machine for ages, Schala's eyes slowly accustomed themselves to the light, and she only saw a dark blur outlined by the overpowering sun overhead. The voice was so distinct yet hard to place. Two different memories flashed in her head, her little brother sulking in her bedroom and the false prophet demanding her cooperation. Fond love and fierce hate warred in her heart. A gloved hand touched her cheek, shading her eyes from the sun, and she raised her hand in kind, mimicking the touch. She frowned. Something wasn't right. Her hand was dark red and dripping wet. A strange metallic scent filled the air.

"You don't recognize me, do you?" His heart pulled in two directions, hoping she did and hoping she didn't. His eyes drooped and he leaned against her, speaking through mouthfuls of blood. "But I never forgot. And now I can stop looking."

He couldn't stand anymore. Resting his head on her shoulder, he closed his eyes as he slumped, his extra weight forcing her to stand and hold him rather than remain motionless in her shell.

"Who are you?" she rasped, her voice harsh from disuse.

Her voice sounded so distant that he couldn't make out the words, but he didn't care. All that mattered was the sound of her voice. "Never lost it," he whispered, slurring his words. "Your amulet...Schala..."

Hands started to pull him away from her and he growled, weakly trying to hang onto her. Even worse, her hand had wrapped around her amulet. As he fell back, the chain snapped, and he didn't have the strength to reach for it. The sun dazzled his eyes as someone lay him on the sand.

"It's not healing," Marle cried, trying spell after spell. "Why isn't it healing?"

"It came from Schala," Lucca said. Her hand flew to her glasses in a familiar gesture as her mind raced. "And she's been merged with Lavos' energy for so long...and Lavos might be Magus' father--"

"His father?" Glen gasped. "'Impossible!"

"The two types of magic combined in Schala may be stronger than our magic, or maybe it's just something Magus is weak against since he's made of the same combination of magic." Lucca left their side and scrambled back up into the Mammon Machine, careful not to let Schala see her.

She needn't have worried. Schala stared at the amulet in her hand, blinking rapidly the edges came into focus. Her dark eyes widened.

"Janus? Janus!" She turned and spotted him on the ground, but as she tried to move towards him, her legs collapsed beneath her and she landed on the hard metal of her former prison. Disbelieving, she raised her hands and looked over her arms and body. In her long captivity, she'd become too weak to move.

"Glad to see you back to yourself, princess," Lucca said, leaning inside the capsule and putting an arm around her waist. "I hope you know a healing spell or two."

"Lucca?" Schala held on as she was dragged free, wincing as the scientist jumped down to the sand and carried her to Magus' side. She leaned over him but he was already unconscious. "Put me down," she said, easing onto her knees as Lucca complied. Raising her hands, she began to chant.

Steel crashed over her head as Chrono blocked Slash's sword. Her voice trembled but she didn't pause in her spell.

Beside them, Glen held Flea and Ozzie at bay, standing between them and a stunned Marle who'd been taken by surprise. After another strike aimed at her head was deflected by Chrono's sword, Schala stumbled in her chant but she didn't stop. The wound in Magus' abdomen began to seal.

"And I thought your fashion sense was awful before," Flea laughed, flying out of Glen's reach. "Magus certainly did you no favors by changing you back."

"Get down here!" Glenn yelled, leaping as high as he could and slash at him. He missed and landed clumsily, even more frustrated because he knew he could have reached him in his former shape.

"Where's the accent, Frog?" Ozzie asked, bravely ensconced in a crystal dome. "Or did you just talk like that so no one would know it was you under that slimy skin?"

"I gained a lot because of what Magus did to me," Glenn growled lowly. He took a deep breath and forced himself to admit what he'd never wanted to admit, never even imagined until he spurned Magus' offer of a fight in the frozen wastelands of the past. "Though he intended it as a humiliation, it forced me to learn courage. It forced me to learn to fight, to live despite my fear and grow stronger."

He dodged Flea's next attack and cast a water spell just above the magician's head, forcing him to dodge low to the ground. Gathering his strength, he leaped again, and this time he did not miss. Flea crashed to the ground and didn't move. The force of the attack made Glen fall awkwardly, and his left leg gave out under him as he landed. He went to one knee, sword still up, ready for another attack.

The attack didn't come. Blood streamed out of Flea's severed neck while his head lay several feet from his body. Glen exhaled and looked across the sand. Chrono and Marle likewise finished off Slash with a flurry of lightning and ice.

Lucca did not join in the fighting. She knelt beside Schala and watched anxiously as her magic repaired the damage she'd done to her brother. Glen wondered if she was trying to analyze the spell, so enrapt by the strange magic that she forgot about the fight around her.

The mammon machine, which had faded to a dull glow after Schala's release, suddenly flared up with brilliant light, drawing all of their attention as Ozzie maneuvered his bulky frame into the spot where Schala once stood. In his hands he held the sunstone, no longer merely channeling its power into the machine but letting its power flow directly down into it. The sheer strength flowing from he mammon machine felt like the edge of one of the fiery waves Schala had cast, but Ozzie didn't even try to attack them. Glen got to his feet and ran across the coliseum floor, falling to one knee at Lucca's side.

Despite the circumstances, he couldn't help glancing at his fallen companion. Though ashen, only messy scar tissue remained of his horrendous wound. He was surprised to notice Magus breathing. He'd never been able to tell before.

"Lucca," Glen started, "what is Ozzie doing?"

Blinking a few times in surprise, she looked from him to Ozzie. Her eyes widened and she shot to her feet.

"He's doing it," she said. "He's using the power in the sun stone to fuel his spell. If we don't do something fast, he'll turn the first humans into mystics."

Watching Marle and Chrono cast strong spells against the machine only to have them deflected by just a stray wisp of the sunstone's power showed them how difficult stopping Ozzie would be. Ozzie could have wiped them out in an instant, although he probably hesitated to use the amount of power that would take away from the main spell.

"But how can we reach him?" Glen asked. "He's too well protected."

"Only because the sun stone is strongest around him," Lucca said. "But we don't have to get him directly. If we destroy the mammon machine, the blast should be strong enough to destroy him, too."

"And perhaps us as well," Schala said, looking up at them from the ground. "The last of Lavos' magic won't be strong enough to rend the timestream this time. It will merely destroy this entire structure, and us with it."

"You saw us defeat Lavos?" Glen asked. "How?"

"In my shell, I could see everything," Schala answered. "Although as time passed, I became less aware of what it all meant. In moments of clarity, I saw just enough to provide Janus with the portals he needed, although I had to take the destinations from his mind. I couldn't bring him to me, no matter how much I wanted to."

The hum grew stronger while Chrono and Marle's attacks had even less effect, their magic consumed to low levels. Marle conserved the small amount she had for healing spells and drew her crossbow, taking aim at the mammon machine itself. Glen hefted the Masamune again, about to rejoin the battle, when Schala's voice stopped him.

"Help me stand," she said, holding out her hand. "Lucca, I will need your help in this. My magic will provide the catalyst for your fire."

"Like a wave carrying my spell as a rider," Lucca said in understanding. "You think your magic can punch through the mammon machine's shield?"

"I was part of that thing for over a millennia," she said. "It's pulling at me even now."

Glen helped her stay on her feet as she raised her arms, using the familiar gestures Magus did to cast spells. Violet wisps of light swirled around her fingertips and coalesced into a flowing stream that she shaped into a ball of energy. Beside them, Lucca gathered every bit of her magic, intending to attack in one massive strike. As one, they let their spells fly forward, curling around each other like ribbons.

On the other side of Ozzie's shield, the mammon machine flared brilliantly and absorbed every bit of the sunstone's power. As Schala's magic flew close the shield opened to receive her spell, but instead of being destroyed by Lucca's flames, the machine shimmered as the magic danced over its surface.

"I don't get it," Lucca gasped. "Why isn't it working?"

"I don't know," Schala whispered. "I don't know why it's not penetrating the machine."

"Isn't it obvious?"

Glen nearly dropped Schala as he turned in surprise and stared at Magus, who'd not only woken up but pushed himself up on his elbows, one hand over the place where Schala's magic had wounded him.

"To penetrate that thing's hide, you need the only sword ever made to cut it, a sword made of dreamstone." He glared at Glen as if annoyed by his lack of perception. "Well, knight? You wanted to save the day, didn't you?"

"Only you could make saving the world sound like a selfish act," Glen grumbled, but he obligingly raised his sword and felt a keen sense of satisfaction as he hurled it through the opening Schala's magic had made, piercing the mammon machine's thick shell. Instead of a metallic clang, the impact sounded like glass breaking.

Lucca's flames slipped inside and for a moment nothing happened. Then the machine began to glow red, then white. Ozzie screamed as his skin burned off and his body caught fire.

"It's working," Lucca said. "It's overheating inside. It'll go in a few more seconds."

"Then we should go, too," Schala said. "We may have enough time to escape."

As Glen helped her move away, he cast one last glance at the Masamune, jammed almost proudly into the enemy that had forged it in the beginning. Although its loss hurt, he took some solace knowing that the blade had come full circle.

Beside him, Magus waved off Lucca's help and easily floated with them as they ran for the Epoch. When they reached its side, Glen felt the sudden panic of facing five seats with an extra member in their party. As he helped Schala in, he'd already made up his mind to remain behind when a harsh shove on his back sent him falling in headfirst.

"Get in there," Magus growled and slammed the door, leaving himself outside.

"Magus, no--!" Marle screamed.

He didn't look at her. A deep rumble from inside the coliseum made him turn. White light exploded up to the sky as flames filled the stone stadium. There was no more time. He flew straight up as fast as he could, then angled away as the explosion pushed outward. Beneath him, he heard the Epoch's engines ignite and fade into the distance. He half-smiled. Everyone was probably screaming at Lucca as she calmly ignored them and figured that Magus could take care of himself.

Then the concussive wave hit, knocking him off balance and sending him tumbling out of the sky for a few hundred feet before he caught himself again. Pieces of stone and harsh blasts of sand erupted around him and he shielded himself with his cloak until the last echo of the explosion faded away and the coliseum was nothing but sand and stones falling back to the ocean.

Taking a deep breath, he let himself fall as well, slowing down before he touched the surface. After nearly dying, simply flying at all exhausted him, but he was the only one of them who could have hoped to look for the sunstone without dry land to stand on. To his surprise, he found a chunk of the mammon machine floating on the surface, the sunstone precariously balanced on the surface against the edge of the Masamune. Carefully bringing his hands close around it, he snatched the stone first and tucked it into the same space that sheltered his cat, then glanced at the sword.

The explosion had marked the blade with red streaks along the edges, exposing the pure red ore of dreamstone. What that had done to the sword itself, he didn't know, and he hesitated to touch. Bobbing on the waves jostled the floating debris and made his decision for him, forcing him to grab it before it tilted into the water. His fingers closed around the hilt and saved it from the ocean, and he rose farther into the air just in case this era held strange sea creatures that might mistake him for a meal.

For a moment, he held up the sword that had nearly killed him, examining the keen edge and the simple design. It was probably all that was left in the world that could actually threaten him, especially now that the mammon machine was destroyed. He held the sword out at arm's length. All he had to do was open his hand and the sword would slip away, lost to the depths of the ocean. It was probably damaged, anyway.

But then he had nothing to fear from its master, either. After a moment, he lowered his hand and waited for Lucca to return with her ship.

She didn't make him wait long. A few minutes later, he heard the familiar blast of the engines as they arrived in this era. The sparkle of sunlight off the Epoch matched the glimmering water, and he shielded his eyes against the glare as she pulled up close and opened the door to let him in.

"I wasn't sure I'd find you," she said. "We only just escaped the concussive wave."

"I flew out its reach," Magus said, sitting down and closing the door again. "I found these floating on the waves."

On spotting the sword and stone in his hands, she gasped in surprise. "Oh wow. Frog--um, Glen, boy that's gonna take some getting used to--he didn't think he would see it again."

"The sword may have lost its otherworldly qualities," Magus said, turning the blade so that she could see the red flares along the side.

"I don't think he'll mind," she said. "In fact, he'll probably be happier to see you."

He raised an eyebrow in response.

"Really," she insisted. "Everyone was yelling at me for leaving you here."

"You were the only one who believed I could survive," he said.

"It was only logical." She steered the ship onto a new course and angled down closer to the water. "First let's put the sunstone back. Then we can go home."

She said it so casually. Home. He leaned back in his seat and watched the water go by. Zeal lay beneath the waves, and his years spent with Ozzie's mystics could hardly count as a home. And the rest of his life had been spent in forests and ruins and shadowed corners of castles, hiding from the world as he searched for his sister. Without her to look for, he didn't know what to do next.

Dolphins. He looked again and spotted dozens of them splashing on top of the water like silver flashes of light. He'd never been able to see them so close before, and as they neared the island and Lucca slowed the ship, he had a close view as they flew alongside the pod. Slightly darker streaks of gray broke up their light coloring, and the way they skimmed beneath the surface looked les like swimming and more like flying.

The ship set down on the island and they both stepped out, making their way into the cave. Lucca set the sun stone back in the circle of light, and they both took a critical look at the stone, trying to gauge how much if any power had been siphoned away in Ozzie's attempt to remake the world.

"It looks fine," Lucca said at last, but she didn't sound convinced.

"Can you think of any way to add power into it?" he asked.

"Not really. I can draw energy from it, but giving it energy doesn't work along the same principles. It seems to absorb energy at a fixed rate. Even if we added mirrors to increase the light impacting it, it wouldn't gain strength any faster."

"Then don't worry about it," he said. "When we find it several hundred years from now, it will be strong enough to kill Lavos."

She nodded once. "I don't remember anything different, so you're probably right."

With that, she turned and headed back to the Epoch, saying something else about going home that he didn't catch. He didn't want to think about returning. Now that he'd found his sister, he suddenly faced the realization that he didn't know what to say to her.

"Hey! You coming?"

He didn't answer except to follow.

On the way back through time to her era, Lucca didn't ask him any questions, for which he was grateful. She seemed comfortable letting him brood and only when they landed in front of the castle did she break the silence.

"We better go up quick," Lucca said. "I told them to take Schala to a guest room but they were all so busy yelling at me that I don't know if they did or not."

"Yelling?"

"For leaving you behind," she said.

Walking at her side allowed him immediate entrance into the castle. He wasn't sure if the guard would let him in by himself, but looming at Lucca's shoulder certainly made it easier. With a soft mental command, he told Alfador that it was safe to come out, and soon his cat was following his heels.

In the middle of the corridor, Chrono, Marle and Glen stood in a little circle conversing in hushed tones and occasionally glancing at the nearby door. When they spotted Lucca and Magus, Marle broke into a grin and even Glen smiled in relief.

"You have as many lives as your cat," he said. "It's good to see you had one more to spare."

Now that he could take a decent look, Magus glanced once over Glen, a little surprised at the long green hair. Fortunately Glen must have used some of his time to beg a more suitable outfit from someone and, although the clothes were a plain peasant's tunic and pants, he looked considerably more dignified.

"It's good to know that damn accent's gone," Magus said as he reached into his cloak. "Here. I found this, figured you'd want it back."

Glen gasped as he saw the Masamune slip from the darkness and come to rest in Magus' gloved hands. Reverently he took it back, admiring the new red streaks.

"No doubt the explosion acted like a new forge," he said. "I wonder if its spirits are unharmed."

Magus shrugged and glanced at the nearby closed door. No doubt his sister lay behind it.

"She asked to be left alone for a little while," Marle explained at seeing his look. "To think. I doubt she'd mind at all if you went in."

"How is she?" he asked, making no move towards the door.

"Tired and weak," Marle said. "But she'll be fine with some rest. I think she feels bad about blasting a hole in you."

He doubted that was the real reason, but he knew he couldn't avoid her any longer. His past would catch up to him in a few more seconds, and she had every right to hate him. He hadn't even really rescued her. That had been everyone else. He walked to the door and knocked, waiting until she told him to enter before going in and closing the door behind himself.

Sunlight streamed in through the windows, and Schala had seated herself on the nearest window sill, holding her hand up to the light. As he came closer, he saw the amulet she had given him in her hand, sparkling. Around her neck was Marle's pendant, finally come full circle.

"I haven't seen light in hundreds of years," she said softly. "I haven't felt the wind or heard birds singing. Just the cold black depths of the ocean."

She seemed like she might melt into the sun's rays. Tentatively reaching out, he put his hand on top of hers, covering the amulet and reassuring himself that she was real. When she smiled and held out her arm in welcome, his anxiety couldn't hold him back any longer. He stepped into her embrace and held her in return, closing his eyes.

"You're real," he murmured. "I started to believe I wouldn't find you again."

"I'm here," she answered. "I knew you would find me some day. I felt you moving through the world and sent little time gates to help you."

"Those were from you?"

"You're my little brother. I felt your magic through the years, resonating with mine."

"Half-brother," he said, looking away. "My father--"

"Brother in every way that matters," she cut him off. With a soft sigh, she reached up and touched one of his earrings, the triangles of his strongest spell set in ears that no longer resembled hers. "No matter how you've changed."

His armor still bore the singes and tears left from the battle, and his gloves had been so burned that parts of them had flaked off, leaving his claws revealed. Against his hand, her skin looked pale but normal, human instead of mystic.

"I finally came into my magic," he said. "The more I lived like a mystic, the more I changed."

For a moment she examined his claws, then his hands. They dwarfed her own small hand, almost fragile in comparison, and she looked up at him with a smile.

"You hardly seem like the little boy I remember," she said. "So much stronger. So much more confident."

And that confidence had nearly let Lavos destroy the world. He winced and looked away. This was the part of the conversation he'd been dreading.

"Schala," he started. "There's something I need to tell you. When mother created the Mammon Machine, when she started using Lavos, the prophet who helped her--"

"Was you," she said. Her smile faded and she stared back out the window. "I didn't know then, but I had nothing but time to think and remember. I wondered why you watched me and young Janus so intently, but I didn't realize who you were until you attacked Lavos. Your magic felt so similar to mine."

"I thought I could kill him," Magus said.

Neither of them spoke. Outside the door, he heard the others speaking in low tones, waiting for them to finish. Although the windows were wide open and sunlight filled every corner of the room, Magus felt like he would suffocate from the pressure.

"Schala--"

"There will be time to talk later," she said, facing him again with a small smile. "To get to know each other again. You've given me back all the time in the world."

"After I nearly took it all from you."

"No," she shook her head. "Lavos did that. No matter what else happened, you stopped him."

He didn't answer.

"Help me lay down," she said. "I need to sleep. Real sleep this time."

"Are you sure?" he asked, but he bent and picked her up before she answered. "You've only been awake for a little while."

"The machine kept me awake for so long," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. "I want to dream again."

Afraid that if he handled her too roughly she might break, he set her down gently on the bed and helped her adjust herself on the pillows. Now he noticed how long her hair had grown. No doubt the machine had held her in a kind of frozen stasis, but even so, the tip of her hair reached her ankles.

A lavender blur leaped onto the bed and padded up to her hand, rubbing its back insistently against her fingers until she looked down in delight.

"Alfador," she said, inclining her head so she could see him a little better. "You're still alive."

"I went and got him first," Magus explained. "I couldn't stand the idea of leaving him on that cold island. Looks like he remembers you, too."

"I'm glad he's here," she said, petting Alfador as he lay down next to her. "He's like part of the family."

Soon her hand came to rest on the cat's back as she relaxed, her eyes starting to close. "Will you be here when I wake up?" she asked.

"Of course," he answered.

When he was sure that she was sleeping comfortably, he watched her for a little while, taking in the features he hadn't seen in so long. She wasn't exactly as he remembered, too pale and exhausted and worn, but he thought that with a little time, she would look more like a Zeal princess.

Leaving her and Alfador to sleep, he left the room and closed the door behind himself. Immediately the others pressed around him, asking him in whispers what she had said and how she felt. Glen also mentioned asking the cook to prepare something simple for Schala, but Magus couldn't concentrate on them.

"Is my old castle still standing?" he asked suddenly.

Everyone else blinked, and from their confused faces, he guessed that none of them knew.

"I'm not sure," Lucca said. "I don't think it ever collapsed. Why?"

He almost started to answer, then thought twice about doing so in front of everyone and instead waved for her to follow him. "I have several technical problems I need to discuss with you."

Familiar groans from Marle and Glen told him they wouldn't follow. Once he and Lucca were clear, he stopped in front of the castle and faced her.

"I'm going back to my castle," he said, "to clear it out and make it inhabitable again."

"For Schala?" she guessed.

He nodded. "Guardia is fine for now, but she needs someplace she can go when she's well again. And I don't want her living in a castle full of traps or infested with mystics."

"Let me get some supplies and we can get started," she said. "Are you sure you don't want to rest, though? You nearly died back at the coliseum."

"I'm fine now," he said. "And I want to get the bulk of the work done soon. I don't know when she'll want to move, but she never liked being the center of attention and being a long-lost princess will only make her feel uncomfortable there."

"Gossip does spread like wildfire," she agreed.

After stopping in town and buying several dozen ethers, as well as a tunic that didn't have a hole in it for Magus, they flew back to the forest surrounding Magus' castle. To their surprise, the castle seemed untouched by the years and the battles.

"Wow," Lucca said as they stepped out of the Epoch. "The trees don't even look that creepy during the day."

"The bats are asleep," Magus replied as he looked over the castle. "The dragon at the top will have to go. Most of the statues, too. I wonder if I can make the masonry a little less dark..."

"Statues and the dragon, yes," Lucca said. "But you don't have to change everything. There's nothing wrong with a dark castle as long as the inside is comfortable, and besides, I can't picture you living in something as bright as Marle's castle."

She paused and glanced at him. "You are going to live here, right?"

Was he? He'd been thinking solely of Schala's needs, but he didn't need to travel anymore. Flea, Ozzie and Slash were dead and the last remnant of Lavos had been destroyed. He touched the soft material of the simple tunic he wore. Moving around without his armor left him feeling vulnerable, but he didn't miss the weight of it at all.

Escaping from Ozzie's trap had required a mental shift, a return to a someone he hadn't been for years. The change hadn't lasted long, too easily covered over again by his temperament, but something had changed about him. Maybe it was just the knowledge that no one was trying to kill him now. He looked up into the clear sky.

"Yes," he said after a moment. "This will be home."

To Be Concluded...


	8. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Magus waited at the edge of the forest, occasionally glancing at the castle doors to see if they'd opened. None of the guards noticed him lurking in the shadows. The dark ages lived up to their name, providing the wizard plenty of hiding places even at the castle's doorstep. He yawned. Glen had said he'd be out at three o'clock, but Magus didn't trust medieval clocks to be all that accurate.

Finally the doors swung open. Magus watched Glen kneel, kissing the Queen's hand before rising and coming down the steps. He looked like a real nobleman now, dressed in fine clothes with a heavy cape, but he betrayed a lack of nobility's arrogance by taking the shortcut to the forest and stepping through muddy puddles in his leather boots. The Masamune hung at his hip, a hint of the gleaming metal showing just above the sheathe.

Glen walked into the forest until the trees comfortably blocked him from view. He looked around uncertainly, then yawned and crossed his arms.

"I know you're here," Glen said to the shadows.

"Just making sure you didn't have any tagalongs," Magus said.

Glen didn't show his surprise as he looked up. Magus lounged in the tall oak above him, but he didn't wear the armor Glen was used to seeing him in-only the tunic and trousers he'd worn under the armor. He didn't look any less imposing, but he no longer looked ready for war, either. Magus braced himself in the branches with his boots against the trunk and one gloved hand holding the limb above him. His cloak dangled temptingly in front of Glen, but he didn't yank it.

"She knows I'll come back soon," Glen said. "I have no need for a bodyguard."

"Or a spy to keep an eye on you?"

Glen shook his head. "I admit, the way we left made my explanations difficult, but I merely explained the truth."

"'Truth'?" Magus echoed. He didn't like the sound of that.

"That you were trying to save the world yet again," Glen said, his grin growing as Magus's look grew darker. "And that you died heroically saving a princess and transforming me back."

"Pond hopping, fly eating..." Magus growled.

"But," Glen laughed, fearlessly staring back, "the way you fought the mystic army and brought me to Leene's side at the cost of your own health is what truly convinced the queen and the guards, when they thought back on it."

"Lying little-" Magus said, dropping out of the tree and drawing himself to his full height.

"Ah, but is any of that a lie?" Glen asked.

Magus glared at him. "I _should_ go change the castle into frogs."

"And then Marle would be a frog," Glen said.

"Just one of several possible timelines," Magus grumbled. "I'm sure the entity would adjust."

Before he let Glen comment, Magus turned and led the way through the forest to the Epoch III. He threw off the camouflaged netting and rolled it up, tossing it into the backseat as Glen hopped in and fastened his seatbelt. Magus climbed in and sealed the top, then started the turbines and revved the engine to full power.

"I'm assuming you've flown this before," Glen said, grasping the arm rests.

"Of course," Magus said. "I'm much better than Lucca at flying this crate."

"That is a relief," Glen said.

"She never opens it up and really lets it go," he added.

Glen had enough time to take a deep breath as they shot forward, exploding branches out of the forest as they went into the clouds and circled the earth before he even realized the ocean had gone by. In a second, there was a familiar flash of light and then they were slowing down, coming to a jarring stop in the forest.

As Magus jumped out, Glen shook his head and slowly came out, groaning as the trees blurred in front of him.

"I take it back," Glen mumbled. "You're as dangerous as ever."

"There's an hour or two before the wedding," Magus said, handing over an engraved invitation. "That'll get you past security into the cathedral. Your seat should be reserved, too."

"You aren't coming with me?" Glen asked, looking over the golden script on immaculately white paper. "Oh, you probably need to pick up Ayla."

"She and Kino are already here," Magus said. "You were the last one. Don't get too drunk at the reception, though. Ayla brought the drinks from her time."

"Headsmash, was it?" Glen smiled, remembering Marle recounting the story. "Very well, then. I'll see you there."

It was only as he was heading up the steps, past the crowds gathered at the entrance, that he realized Magus hadn't told him why he wasn't there. An usher read his name on the invitation and led him down the aisle to the front pew, where found Ayla and Kino seated next to Robo and Atropos. Indeed, a quick look around showed him several people he recognized-Doan and Tomas the XIII, Melchior and Gaspar, and even a nu. How strange they must have seemed to the rest of the guests, especially on the opposite side of the king and his retinue.

As he sat down, he counted himself lucky that he wasn't a frog for everyone to stare at. Instead they seemed focused on Ayla and Kino, in their best furs, as they both leaned back in their seats with wide stares at the ceiling. Glen would have thought they were impressed by the immense building but he recognized the dizzy spinning of their eyes.

"Still recovering from the trip with Magus?" he asked.

"Blue hair one fly dangerous," Ayla groaned. "Like Lucca better."

"Indeed," Glen said. "By the by, we missed you on this trip. Your strength and your insight would have been most valuable."

"Ayla miss fighting and saving world," she smiled. "But Ayla busy with Kino. Make new chief."

"'New'..." he echoed, noticing her hand on her abdomen. "Oh. Oh! That's wonderful!"

"New chief kick strong," she laughed, then groaned as her head swirled again.

Glen leaned back in his seat and followed suit, letting his faint nausea fade away. If he thought about it, he wasn't surprised that Magus wasn't here. Too many people, too lit, too guarded, and too far from his sister. Of course Schala should have been there...but he dismissed that idea quickly. She was only recently brought out of her time inside the Mammon Machine. Something like this would be too overwhelming. And Lucca! Why wasn't she-?

He nodded once as he remembered her talking in the castle, downstairs in the kitchen, as they discussed the past and the future and her struggle to create machinery in this era. She had not seemed happy with the thought of a royal marriage. Perhaps it wasn't surprising that Lucca was not here.

One eyebrow raised. If three three of them were not here...?

"You do recall," Magus grumbled, "that I warned you not to indulge her when she gets like this?"

Seated on the bed, Schala smiled and leaned back on her pillows, letting Alfador play with her sash. Her nightdress would pass for normal clothing with just a soft sash cinching it in, and she hadn't worn shoes once since arriving in her brother's castle. At first it had been dark and foreboding, all long corridors of black stone as he carried her inside, but then he brought her to the tower and there had been so much sunlight, such a grand view of Guardia and the royal castle, from the large window.

The window he was sulking on, resting a boot on her sill.

"I wouldn't dream of interrupting her," she said, "not when I don't ever correct your manners. It's such a pity none of your etiquette lessons sunk in."

He crossed his arms and stared out at the town in the distance, but his boot came off the window.

From the far wall, Lucca lay beside a nest of exposed cords, tugging slightly on each one to figure out where they went and then tie-wrapping them together. She bundled all of them into a mass and stuck them behind the row of extra stones that hid them against the rest of the wall.

"I just wanted to make sure the wiring didn't spark," Lucca grumbled as she sat up. "It's all so jury-rigged I was afraid it might burn the place down."

"That would be quite an accomplishment," he said, drawing out each syllable in sarcasm, "considering we've both cast powerful fire spells in here."

"Electricity isn't fire," she said too sweetly.

He frowned. He knew that, and she knew that he knew it. "What's wrong with lanterns and spells anyway? It's not like we need the lights and it's taken you away from your other projects."

"Because," she said, standing up and wiping the dust off her hands, "you liked that hot shower in the future, right?"

He didn't dignify that with a response. Beside him, Schala giggled behind her hand.

"Well, it's a package deal," Lucca said. "I like having a steady light source. Good plumbing is just part of updating this place."

Although she didn't say it, Magus heard her unspoken jibe. He wanted all the improvements if they would make life easier for his sister. An easy switch to flip for light instead of maintaining a spell or keeping a lantern going. A shower. An elevator between floors rather than endless stairs. So much to complete, and Lucca did it all without complaint. And while putting up with his surly attitude. And while slowly teaching him to do the same technical repairs and installations, even if she always checked the work later only to declare it satisfactory.

And always without teasing him that it was for his sister. To her credit, she never once held an improvement over his head, demanding a favor in return. It ensured that he did anything she asked, even if he grumbled about it.

"Anyway, it's done now," Lucca said. "Shall we?"

Coming to his feet, Magus went to Schala's side and extended his arm, ignoring Alfador as he used it to climb up his shoulder. She took her brother's hand gingerly, then stood and leaned against him, taking small steps as he walked her to the door. The past few weeks had been grueling and sometimes downright humiliating, but she was able to walk a little on her own again. And as they took the iron box that Lucca called an elevator to the first floor, slowly turning the crank that turned a wheel overhead that lowered them down, the inventor kept up a steady stream of conversation to make sure Schala didn't feel like she had to talk or that she was slowing them down.

"We're not really gonna go with gas power, right?" Lucca said. "I mean, I know they work really well, but I keep worrying about potential explosions, especially since I can't create decent valves for the boilers. I just don't have the fine tuned equipment and it makes no sense to keep flying back and forth to the future for spare parts, especially since I'm trying to establish precursors for that technology."

"Unless you want to keep burning wood for hot water," he said, "I see no alternative. Now, if you've made improvements to that stove idea, then perhaps there's some merit..."

Schala smiled. Janus hadn't changed at all, not on the inside. Insufferably intelligent and childish, and now he had someone to match wits with. She hoped Lucca learned to tame that attitude of his, but from the reactions of everyone she met, her brother already behaved much more civilly than he had before. If so, she wondered what years of living as a mystic had done to him.

The floors of the castle were so cold, but heavy carpets lined the path to the main door, and she luxuriated in the feel of them until they reached the grass. The feel of each blade, the touch of wind in her hair, the warm light cascading onto made her look up at the clouds in wonder. As a princess, she had lived her whole life watching them float below and beside her. Now having them above her made her feel as if the world had turned upside down just to set her free.

One thing had not changed, however. She still lived on an island, and the upside to that was having a private beach. Lucca's boat was moored nearby, although Lucca only ever used it if she wasn't in the mood to use the Epoch. And if Magus needed to visit the mainland, he flew. Schala knew she'd have to have him teach her that trick later on, after she wouldn't feel tempted to rely on it instead of walking.

"Here looks good," Lucca said, setting down the basket and bringing out several covered plates, all the dishes she'd stolen from the royal kitchen as they prepared for the wedding feast. Alfador sat and gave a plaintive mew until he received his share.

A decanter of blood was also set aside for Magus, and they all wordlessly treated it like wine. Watching her brother drink, and the occasional outbursts of anger that brought his fangs into view, made her wonder what mystics were truly like. She knew that they despised sunlight and counted their lives not in days but nights, but it was also true that mystics ate humans. Had Janus-no. She would never ask. She didn't need to. He'd developed a taste for blood, the extra vitality that gave him such raw power and shadow magic. There was no need to eat anything else.

Distant bells rang, their sound clear if miles away. Schala smiled, even if her brother and Lucca didn't. Crono and Marle were married.

"You two don't want to go to the party?" she asked. "Probably be fun."

"I'd rather fight Lavos again," Magus said. "Besides, Lucca has a robot she's been working on."

Next to Schala, Lucca grinned. "You saw it? It's just like Gato, but I have a hand-held cordless control system that interfaces remotely."

"A remote control?" Schala echoed, piecing together the words she'd understood.

"Ooh," Lucca said. "That sounds good. 'Remote control'."

Magus leaned back, drowsing as the sun went down and the moon started to fade in. Seeing Frog...Glen again had put him in an ill temper he was still pushing away. So much of his life had been spent working toward killing Lavos, and that had crumbled. Then he'd struggled to find Schala. Now that she was found-he took a moment to revel in having her there, safe, sound, happy-what was he supposed to do? He'd hunted for Lavos, for her...what was left to look for?

Several dozen yards out into the ocean, a pod of dolphins surfaced for air. A couple of young ones leaped out of the water or spun around, throwing a spray of water into the light, and then dove back under the waves. The air was full of playful squeaks and clicks, and then the pod faded from sight again.

"So pretty," Lucca said, resting her head in her hands. "I wonder if I could make a submarine based on their shape."

"I think a dragon is much more suitable," Schala said. "They go down farther."

"Really?" Lucca asked.

"Mm-hmm. When the Black Omen was underwater, I only saw dragons."

Lucca went back to thinking.

Magus wondered. The world was saved. Lavos was dead. He had his sister again. He even had his cat. And there were dozens of ideas brewing in Lucca's head that he knew he'd be roped into building alongside her. The future was in constant flux and imperfect. The only solution to improving the future was to improve the now. But did he want to? Did he care enough about the planet to bother when he had what he wanted right here?

If the future was to change, let it change. If this was his world now, so be it.

"I think I _could_ make a dragon submarine," Lucca said slowly. "But I'd need some more gold for the wiring, and I'm fresh out."

"The king has gold," Schala offered.

"Yeah, but he spent a ton on that wedding," Lucca grumbled. "I'd have to get in there and steal...um, borrow some."

As if they both had the same thought, Lucca and Schala both glanced at Magus. He noticed their looks and grinned.

If the fate for the Dark Lord Magus was to cater to the whims of these two women forever, he could only laugh.

Always time for a little fun.

end


End file.
